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TABLE-TALK 


OH 


BOOKS,  MEN,  AND  MANNERS. 


EDITED   BY   CHETWOOD   EYELYN,    ESQ. 


NEW    YORK: 
GEORGE  P.  PUTNAM  &  CO.,  10  PARK  PLACE. 


M.DCCC.LIII. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1850, 
BY    GEORGE    P.    PUTNAM, 

In  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


8TKREOTYPED  BY 

BILLIN    A     BKCTS, 

20  North  William-stre«t,  New  York. 


TO     TOO, 


THIS    BOOK 


IE       MOST      AFFECTIONATELY       DEDICATED. 


C  H  E  T  W  O  O  D    EVELYN. 


"  SCARAMOUCH,  THE  FIRST  FAMOUS  ITALIAN  COMEDIAN,  BEING  AT  PAWS 
ANP  IN  GREAT  WANT,  BETHOUGHT  HIMSELF  OF  CONSTANTLY  PLYING  NEAR 
THE  POOR  OF  A  NOTED  PERFUMER  IN  THAT  CITY,  AND  WHEN  ANY  ONE  CAME 
OUT  WHO  HAD  BEEN  BUYING  SNUFF,  NEVER  FAILED  TO  DESIRE  A  TASTE  OF 
THEM ;  WHEN  HE  HAD  BY  THIS  MEANS  GOT  TOGETHER  A  QUANTITY  MADE 
UP  OF  SEVERAL  DIFFERENT  SORTS,  HE  SOLD  IT  AGAIN  AT  A  LOWES  RATE  TO 
THE  SAME  PERFUMER,  WHO,  FINDING  OUT  THE  TRICK,  CALLED  IT  '  TABAC  DK 
MJLLE  FLEURS,'  OR  '  SNUFF  OF  A  THOUSAND  FLOWERS.'  BY  THIS  MEANS  HE 
GOT  A  VERY  COMFORTABLE  SUBSISTENCE,  UNTIL  MAKING  TOO  MUCH  HASTE 
TO  BE  RICH,  HE  ONE  DAY  TOOK  SUCH  AX  UNREASONABLE  PINCH " 

Spectator,  No.  288. 


AFTER-DINNER  TABLE-TALK 


WIT   AND   PROFESSED   WITS. 

I  WISH,  after  all  I  have  said  about  wit  and  humour, 
I  could  satisfy  myself  of  their  good  effects  upon  the 
character  and  disposition;  but  I  am  convinced  the 
probable  tendency  of  both  is,  to  corrupt  the  under- 
standing and  the  heart.  I  am  not  speaking  of  wit 
where  it  is  kept  down  by  more  serious  qualities  of 
mind,  and  thrown  into  the  background  of  the  picture ; 
but  where  it  stands  out  boldly  and  emphatically,  and 
is  evidently  the  master  quality  in  any  particular 
mind.  Professed  wits,  though  they  are  generally 
courted  for  the  amusement  they  afford,  are  seldom 
respected  for  the  qualities  they  possess.  The  habit 
of  seeing  things  in  a  witty  point  of  view  increases, 
and  makes  incursions  from  its  own  proper  regions 
upon  principles  and  opinions  which  are  ever  held 
sacred  by  the  wise  and  good.  A  witty  man  is  a 
dramatic  performer :  in  process  of  time,  he  can  no 
more  exist  without  applause  than  he  can  without 


10  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

air;  if  his  audience  be  small,  or  if  they  are  inatten- 
tive, or  if  a  new  wit  defrauds  him  of  any  portion 
of  his  admiration,  it  is  all  over  with  him, — he 
sickens,  and  is  extinguished.  The  applauses  of  the 
theatre  on  which  he  performs  are  so  essential  to  him, 
that  he  must  obtain  them  at  the  expense  of  decency, 
friendship,  and  good  feeling.  It  must  always  be 
probabk,  too,  that  a  mere  wit  is  a  person  of  light 
and  frivolous  understanding.  His  business  is  not 
to  discover  relations  of  ideas  that  are  useful,  and 
have  a  real  influence  upon  life,  but  to  discover  the 
more  trifling  relations  which  are  only  amusing ;  he 
never  looks  at  things  with  the  naked  eye  of  common- 
sense,  but  is  always  gazing  at  the  world  through  a 
Claude  Lorraine  glass,  discovering  a  thousand  appear- 
ances which  are  created  only  by  the  instrument  of 
inspection,  and  covering  every  object  with  facetious 
and  unnatural  colours.  In  short,  the  character  of  a 
mere  wit  it  is  impossible  to  consider  as  very  amiable, 
very  respectable,  or  very  safe.  So  far  the  world,  in 
judging  of  wit  where  it  has  swallowed  up  all  other 
qualifications,  judge  aright ;  but  I  doubt  if  they  are 
sufficiently  indulgent  to  this  faculty  where  it  exists 
in  a  lesser  degree,  and  as  one  out  of  many  other  in- 
gredients of  the  understanding.  There  is  an  associa- 
tion in  men's  minds  between  dullness  and  wisdom, 
amusement  and  folly,  which  has  a  very  powerful 
influence  in  decision  upon  character,  and  is  not 
overcome  without  considerable  difficulty.  The  rea- 
son is,  that  the  outward  sign  of  a  dull  man  and  a 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  11 

wise  man  are  the  same,  and  so  are  the  outward  signs 
of  a  frivolous  man  and  a  witty  man ;  and  we  are  not 
to  expect  that  the  majority  will  be  disposed  to  look 
to  much  more  than  the  outward  sign.  I  believe 
the  fact  to  be,  that  wit  is  very  seldom  the  only 
eminent  quality  which  resides  in  the  mind  of  any 
man  ;  it  is  commonly  accompanied  with  many  other 
talents  of  every  description,  and  ought  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  strong  evidence  of  a  fertile  and  superior 
understanding.  Almost  all  the  great  poets,  orators, 
and  statesmen  of  all  times,  have  been  witty.  Caesar, 
Alexander,  Aristotle,  Descartes,  and  Lord  Bacon, 
were  witty  men ;  so  was  Cicero,  Shakspeare,  Demos- 
thenes, Boileau,  Pope,  Dryden,  Fontenelle,  Jonson, 
Waller,  Cowley,  Solon,  Socrates,  Dr.  Johnson,  and 
almost  every  man  who  has  made  a  distinguished 
figure  in  the  House  of  Commons.  I  have  talked  of 
the  danger  of  wit;  I  do  not  mean  by  that  to  enter 
into  common-place  declamation  against  faculties  be- 
cause they  are  dangerous ;  wit  is  dangerous,  elo- 
quence is  dangerous,  a  talent  for  observation  is 
dangerous,  every  thing  is  dangerous  that  has  efficacy 
and  vigour  for  its  characteristics ;  nothing  is  safe 
but  mediocrity.  The  business  is,  in  conducting  the 
understanding  well,  to  risk  something;  to  ami  at 
uniting  things  that  are  commonly  incompatible. 
The  meaning  of  an  extraordinary  man  is,  that  he  is 
eight  men,  not  one  man ;  that  he  has  as  much  wit  as 
if  he  had  no  sense,  and  as  much  sense  as  if  he  had  no 
wit;  that  his  conduct  is?  as  judicious  as  if  he  were  the 


12  AFTER-DINNEE     TABLE-TALK. 

dullest  of  human  beings,  and  his  imagination  as  bril- 
liant as  if  he  were  irretrievably  ruined.  But  when 
wit  is  combined  with  sense  and  information ;  when  it 
is  softened  by  benevolence,  and  restrained  by  strong 
principle ;  when  it  is  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  can 
use  it  and  despise  it.  who  can  be  witty  and  something 
much  better  than  witty,  who  loves  honour,  justice, 
decency,  good-nature,  morality,  and  religion,  ten 
thousand  times  better  than  wit ;  wit  is  then  a  beauti- 
ful and  delightful  part  of  our  nature.  There  is  no 
more  interesting  spectacle  than  to  see  the  effects  of 
wit  upon  the  different  characters  of  men ;  than  to 
observe  it  expanding  caution,  relaxing  dignity,  un- 
freezing coldness,  teaching  age,  and  care,  and  pain,  to 
smile,  extorting  reluctant  gleams  of  pleasure  from 
melancholy,  and  charming  even  the  pangs  of  grief. 
It  is  pleasant  to  observe  how  it  penetrates  through 
the  coldness  and  awkwardness  of  society,  gradually 
bringing  men  nearer  together,  and,  like  the  combined 
force  of  wine  and  oil,  giving  every  man  a  glad  heart 
and  a  shining  countenance.  Genuine  and  innocent 
wit  like  this,  is  surely  the  flavour  of  the  mind  I  Man 
could  direct  his  ways  by  plain  reason,  and  support 
his  life  by  tasteless  food ;  but  God  has  given  us  wit, 
and  flavour,  and  brightness,  and  laughter,  and  per- 
fumes, to  enliven  the  days  of  man's  pilgrim'age,  and 
to  "  charm  his  pained  steps  over  the  burning  marie." 
• — Sydney  Smith. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  13 


RAILLERY. 


Raillery  is  the  finest  part  of  conversation ;  but, 
as  it  is  our  usual  custom  to  counterfeit  and  adulterate 
whatever  is  too  dear  for  us,  so  we  have  done  with  this, 
and  turn  it  all  into  what  is  generally  called  repartee, 
or  being  smart ;  just  as  when  an  expensive  fashion 
comes  up,  those  who  are  not  able  to  reach  it,  content 
themselves  with  some  paltry  imitation.  It  now  passes 
for  raillery  to  run  a  man  down  in  discourse,  to  put 
him  out  of  countenance,  and  make  him  ridiculous ; 
sometimes  to  expose  the  defects  of  his  person  or  un- 
derstanding ;  on  all  which  occasions,  he  is  obliged  not 
to  be  angry,  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  not  being  able 
to  take  a  jest.  It  is  admirable  to  observe  one  who  is 
dexterous  at  this  art,  singling  out  a  weak  adversary, 
getting  the  laugh  on  his  side,  and  then  carrying  all 
before  him.  The  French,  from  whence  we  borrow  the 
word,  have  a  quite  different  idea  of  the  thing,  and  so 
had  we  in  the  politer  age  of  our  fathers.  Eaillery, 
was  to  say  something  that  at  first  appeared  a  reproach 
or  reflection,  but,  by  some  turn  of  wit  unexpected  and 
surprising,  ended  always  in  a  compliment,  and  to  the 
advantage  of  the  person  it  was  addressed  to.  And 
surely  one  of  the  best  rules  in  conversation  is,  never 
to  say  a  thing  which  any  of  the  company  can  reason- 
ably wish  we  had  rather  left  unsaid :  nor  can  there 
any  thing  be  well  more  contrary  to  the  ends  for 
which  people  meet  together,  than  to  part  unsatisfied 
with  each  other  or  themselves. — Swift. 

In  exemplification  of  this,  we  may  give  an  anec 
2 


14  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

dote  of  the  duke  of  Buckingham.  "My  lord," 
said  he  to  the  earl  of  Orrery,  "  you  will  certainly  be 
damned."  "  How,  my  lord  ?"  said  the  earl,  with 
some  warmth.  "Nay,  nay,  there  is  no  help  for  it," 
answered  the  duke,  "  for  it  is  positively  said,  '  Cursed 
is  he  of  whom  all  men  speak  well.' " 

This  is  taking  a  man  by  surprise,  and  being  wel- 
come when  you  have  surprised  him.  The  person 
flattered  receives  you  into  his  closet  at  once ;  and  the 
sudden  change  of  his  heart,  from  the  expectation  of 
an  ill-wisher,  to  find  you  his  friend,  makes  you  in 
his  full  favour  in  a  moment,  more  so  than  if  you  had 
paid  him  the  finest  compliment.  The  spirits  that 
were  raised  so  suddenly  against  you,  are  as  suddenly 
raised  for  you. — Steele. 


PASSING    ONE  S    TIME. 


There  is  no  saying  shocks  me  so  much  as  that 
which  I  hear  very  often,  "  that  a  man  does  not  know 
how  to  pass  his  time."  It  would  have  been  but  ill- 
spoken  by  Methusalah  in  the  nine  hundred  and 
sixty-ninth  year  of  his  life. — Cowley. 


WITTY    SIMILE. 


Sir  Harry  Hargrave's  mind  is  full  of  the  most 
obsolete  errors ;  a  very  Monmouth-street  of  thread- 
bare prejudices ;  if  a  truth  gleam  for  a  moment 
upon  him,  it  discomposes  all  his  habit  of  thought, 
like  a  stray  sunbeam  on  a  cave  full  of  bats, — Bulwer. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  15 


TRUTH. 


When  a  man  has  no  design  but  to  speak  plain 
truth,  he  may  say  a  great  deal  in  a  very  narrow 

compass. — Steele. 


ANGLERS. 


Old  "Walton,  in  his  "Complete  Angler,"  after 
having  given  some  choice  directions  how  to  dress  a 
pike,  observes  that  "  this  dish  of  meat  is  too  good  for 
any  but  anglers,  or  very  honest  men." 


LIBRARIES 


Are  as  the  shrines  where  all  the  relics  of  saints, 
full  of  true  virtue,  and  that  without  delusion  and  im- 
posture, are  preserved  and  reposed. — Bacon. 


AFFECTATION   OF    GRANDEUR. 


Senecio  was  a  man  of  a  turbid  and  confused  wit, 
who  could  not  endure  to  speak  any  but  mighty 
words  and  sentences,  till  this  humour  grew  at  last 
into  so  notorious  a  habit,  or  rather  disease,  as  became 
the  sport  of  the  whole  town ;  he  would  have  no 
servants  but  huge,  massy  fellows;  no  plate  or 
household  stuff  but  thrice  as  big  as  the  fashion ; 
you  may  believe,  (for  I  speak  it  without  raillery,) 
his  extravagancy  came  at  last  into  a  madness,  that 
he  would  not  put  on  a  pair  of  shoes,  each  of  which 
was  not  big  enough  for  both  his  feet;  he  would 
eat  nothing  but  what  was  great,  nor  touch  any  fruit 
but  horse-plums  and  pound-pears. — Seneca. 


16  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALE. 

LOVE    OP   LITTLENESS. 

I  confess,  I  love  littleness  almost  in  all  things.  A 
little  convenient  estate,  a  little  cheerful  house,  a  little 
company,  and  a  very  little  feast,  and,  if  I  were  ever 
to  fall  in  love  again,  (which  is  a  great  passion,  and 
therefore  I  hope  I  have  done  with  it,)  it  would  be,  I 
think,  with  prettiness,  rather  than  with  majestical 
beauty. — Cowl&y. 

"  THE    GREAT   VULGAR." 

Successful  poets  have  a  great  authority  over  the 
language  of  their  country.  Cowley's  happy  expres- 
sion of  "  the  great  vulgar,"  is  become  a  part  of  the 
English  phraseology. — Hurd. 

THE    STRAWBERRY. 

Dr.  Butler  said  of  strawberries,  "  Doubtless  God 
could  have  made  a  better  berry,  but  doubtless  God 
never  did." 

A   HABITUAL    BORE. 

Lord  Chesterton"  we  have  often  met  with,  and 
suffered  a  good  deal  from  his  lordship :  a  heavy, 
pompous,  meddling  peer,  occupying  a  great  share  of 
the  conversation — saying  things  in  ten  words  which 
required  only  two,  and  evidently  convinced  that  he  is 
making  a  great  impression  ;  a  large  man  with  a  large 
head,  and  a  very  landed  manner,  knowing  enough  to 
torment  his  fellow-creatures,  not  to  instruct  them,  the 
ridicule  of  young  ladies,  and  the  natural  butt  and 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  17 

target  of  wit.  It  is  easy  to  talk  of  carnivorous 
animals  and  beasts  of  prey,  but  does  such  a  man, 
who  lays  waste  a  whole  civilized  party  of  beings  by 
prosing,  reflect  upon  the  joy  he  spoils,  and  the  misery 
he  creates,  in  the  course  of  his  life  ?  and  that  any  one 
who  listens,  to  him  through  politeness,  would  prefer 
toothache  or  earache  to  his  conversation  ?  Does  he 
consider  the  extreme  uneasiness  which  ensues  when 
the  company  have  discovered  a  man  to  be  an  ex 
tremely  absurd  person,  at  the  same  time  that  it  is 
absolutely  impossible  to  convey,  by  words  or  manner 
the  most  distant  suspicion  of  the  discovery  ?  And,- 
then,  who  punishes  this  bore?  What  sessions  or 
what  assizes  for  him?  What  bill  is  found  against 
him?  Who  indicts  him?  When  the  judges  have  gone 
their  vernal  and  autumnal  rounds,  the  sheepstealer 
disappears — the  swindler  gets  ready  for  the  Bay — the 
solid  parts  of  the  murderer  are  preserved  in  anatomi- 
cal collections.  But  after  twenty  years  of  crime,  the 
bore  is  discovered  in  the  same  house,  in  the  same 
attitude,  eating  the  same  soup — untried — unpunished 
— undissected. — Sydney  Smith. 

DUTICtTLT    QUESTIONS. 

When  Coleridge,  in  1799,  went  to  Germany,  he 
sent  a  message  to  Lamb,  that  if  the  latter  wished  any 
information  on  any  subject  he  might  apply  to  him, 
(i.  e.,  by  letter,)  so  Lamb  sends  him  the  following  ab- 
struse propositions,  to  which,  however,  Coleridge  did 


not  "  deign  an  answer." 


2* 


18  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

Whether  God  loves  a  lying  angel  better  than  a 
true  man  ? 

Whether  the  archangel  Uriel  could  knowingly 
affirm  an  untruth,  and  whether,  if  he  could,  he 
would  f 

Whether  the  higher  order  of  seraphim  illuminati 
ever  sneer? 

Whether  an  immortal  and  amenable  soul  may  not 
come  to  be  damned  at  last,  and  the  man  never  suspect 
it  beforehand  ? 

GENIUS   AND   COMMON   UNDERSTANDING. 

There  is  a  lower  kind  of  discretion  and  regularity, 
which  seldom  fails  of  raising  men  to  the  highest 
stations,  in  the  court,  the  church,  and  the  law.  It 
must  be  so :  for  Providence,  which  designed  the 
world  should  be  governed  by  many  heads,  made  it 
a  business  within  the  reach  of  common  understand- 
ings ;  while  one  great  genius  is  hardly  found  in  ten 
millions.  Did  you  never  observe  one  of  your  clerks 
cutting  his  paper  with  a  blunt  ivory  knife  ?  did  you 
ever  know  the  knife  to  fail  going  the  true  way? 
whereas  if  he  had  used  a  razor  or  penknife,  he  had 
odds  against  him  of  spoiling  a  whole  sheet. — Svrift 
to  Bolingbroke. 

STUPID    STORIES. 

"A  stupid  story,"  says  Walpole,  "or  idea,  will 
sometimes  make  one  laugh  more  than  wit." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  19 

LOSING    TIME. 

One  night  when  Matthews  was  going  to  the 
theatre  at  Edinburgh,  and  was  almost  too  late,  he 
took  a  coach,  and  ordered  the  coachman  to  drive 
to  the  theatre.  In  going  up  the  hill,  the  horses 
being  tired,  the  coach  made  no  progress,  upon  which 
Matthews  remonstrated,  saying,  that  he  should  be 
too  late,  he  should  lose  his  time.  The  coachman 
coolly  said,  "Your  honour  should  reflact  that  I'm 
losing  time  as  weel's  yersel'." 

DELICATE    PRAISE. 

When  Sir  Matthew  Hale  was  made  chief-justice, 
his  commission  was  brought  to  him  by  Lord  Claren- 
don, who  told  him,  that,  "  if  the  king  could  have 
found  out  an  honester  and  a  fitter  man  for  that 
employment,  he  would  not  have  advanced  him  to  it." 

A   HAPPY    CHARACTER. 

He  is  a  most  lively,  good-humoured,  and  pleasant 
man,  who  bears  the  ills  of  life  as  if  they  were 
blessings,  and  seems  to  take  the  rough  and  smooth 
with  an  equal  countenance.  This  sort  of  unbended 
philosophy  is  the  best  gift  that  nature  can  bestow  on 
her  children ;  it  lightens  the  burden  of  care,  and 
turns  every  fable,  and  ghastly  hue  of  memory,  to 
bright  and  splendid  colours.  There  is  no  one  I 
enjoy  so  much  as  I  do  him ;  a  cap  and  bells  is  a 
crown  to  him  ;  a  tune  upon  a  flageolet  is  a  concert ; 


20  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

if  the  sun  shines,  he  sports  himself  in  its  beams ;  if 
the  storm  comes  he  skips  gayly  along,  and  when  he 
is  wet  to  the  skin  it  only  serves  to  make  out  a 
pleasant  story,  while  he  is  drying  himself  at  the  fire. 
If  you  are  dull  after  dinner,  he  will  get  him  up, 
and  rehearse  half  a  dozen  scenes  out  of  a  play,  and  do 
it  well,  and  be  as  pleased  with  his  performance  as  you 
can  be.  "With  all  these  companionable  talents,  he  is 
neither  forward,  noisy,  or  impertinent;  but  on  the 
contrary  very  conversable ;  and  possesses  as  pleasant 
a  kind  of  good-breeding  as  any  one. — Lord  Lytileton's 
Letters. 

HERALDRY   V.   AGRICULTURE. 

"We  may  talk  what  we  please  of  lilies,  and  lions 
rampant,  and  spread  eagles,  in  fields  of  d'or  or 
tfargent,  but  if  heraldry  were  guided  by  reason,  a 
plough  in  a  field  arable  would  be  the  most  noble  and 
ancient  arms. — Cowley. 

MOVING. 

"What  a  dislocation  of  comfort  is  implied  in  that 
word  moving  I  Such  a  heap  of  little,  nasty  things, 
after  you  think  all  is  got  into  the  cart ;  old  dredging 
boxes,  worn-out  brushes,  gallipots,  vials,  things  that 
it  is  impossible  the  most  necessitous  person  can  ever 
want,  but  which  the  women,  who  preside  on  these 
occasions,  will  not  leave  behind,  if  it  was  to  save 
your  soul :  they'd  keep  the  cart  ten  minutes,  to  stow 
in  dirty  pipes  and  broken  matches,  to  show  their 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  2t 

economy.  Then  you  can  find  nothing  you  want  for 
many  days  after  you  get  into  your,  new  lodgings. 
You  must  comb  your  hair  with  your  fingers,  wash 
your  hands  without  soap,  go  about  in  dirty  gaiters. — 
Charles  Lamb. 

MONK    LEWIS'S    TRAGEDY    OF    ALFONSO. 

This  tragedy  delights  in  explosions.  Alfonso's 
empire  is  destroyed  by  a  blast  of  gunpowder,  and 
restored  by  a  clap  of  thunder.  After  the  death  of 
CaBsario,  and  a  short  exhortation  to  that  purpose  by 
Orsino,  all  the  conspirators  fall  down  in  a  thunder- 
clap, ask  pardon  of  the  king,  and  are  forgiven. 
This  mixture  of  physical  and  moral  power  is  beauti- 
ful !  How  interesting  a  water-spout  would  appear 
among  Mr.  Lewis's  kings  and  queens.  We  anxiously 
look  forward,  in  his  next  tragedy,  to  a  fall  of  snow, 
three  or  four  feet  deep,  or  expect  that  a  plot  shall 
gradually  unfold  itself  by  means  of  a  general  thaw. — 
Sydney  Smith. 

ENGLISH    CONVERSATION. 

Hesitating,  Humming,  and  Drawling,  are  the 
three  graces  of  English  Conversation.  "We  are  at 
dinner — a  gentleman,  "  a  man  about  town,"  is  inform- 
ing us  of  a  misfortune  that  has  befallen  his  friend. 
"  No — I  assure  you — now — err — err — that — err — it 
was  the  most  shocking  accident  possible — err — poor 
Chester  was  riding  in  the  park — err — you  know  that 
grey — err,  (substantive  dropped,  hand  a  little  flour- 


22  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

ished  instead,) — of  his — splendid  creature  I — err — 
well,  sir,  and  by  Jove — err — the — err — (no  substan- 
tive, flourish  again,)  took  fright,  and — e — err — 
Here  the  gentleman  throws  up  his  chin  and  eyes, 
sinks  back  exhausted  into  his  chair,  and  after  a  pause 
adds — "  "Well,  they  took  him  into  the  shop — there — 
you  know — with  the  mahogany  sashes — just  by  the 
park — err — and — err — man  there — set  his — what  d'ye 
call  it — collar-bone;  but  he  was — err — ter — ri — bly 
— terribly — "  (a  full  stop.)  The  gentleman  shakes 
his  head,  and  the  sentence  is  suspended  to  eternity. 

Another  gentleman  takes  up  the  wondrous  tale, 
logically :  "  Ah  1  shocking,  shocking — but  poor  Ches- 
ter was  a  very  agreeable — err — w  (full  stop.) 

"  Oh !  devilish  gentlemanlike  fellow ! — quite  shock- 
ing ! — quite — did  you  go  into  the — err — to-day  ?" 

"No,  indeed;  the  day  was  so  un — may  I  take 
some  wine  with  you  ?" 

But,  perhaps,  the  genius  of  our  conversation  is 
most  shown  in  the  art  of  explaining. 

"  "Were  you  in  the  house  last  night  ?" 

"Yes — err — Sir  Kobert  Peel  made  a  splendid 
speech  1" 

"  Ah !  how  did  lie  justify  his  vote  ?  I've  not 
seen  the  papers." 

"  Oh,  I  can  tell  exactly — ehem — he  said — you 
see — that  he  disliked  the  ministers,  and  so  forth ! 
you  understand — but  that — err — in  these  times,  and 
so  forth — and  with  this  river  of  blood — oh !  he  was 
very  fine  there/ — you  must  read  it — well,  sir;  and 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK  23 

then  he  was  very  good  against  O'Connell,  capital — 
and  all  this  agitation  going  on — and  murder,  and  so 
forth — and  then,  sir,  he  told  a  capital  story,  about  a 
man  and  his  wife  being  murdered;  and  putting  a 
child  in  a  fireplace — you  see — I  forget  now,  but  it 
was  capital :  and  then  he  wound  up  with — a — with 
— a — in  his  usual  way,  in  short,  oh !  he  quite  justi- 
fied himself — you  understand — in  short,  you  see,  he 
could  not  do  otherwise." 

Caricatured  as  this  may  seem,  I  assure  you  that  it  is 
to  the  life :  the  explainer,  too,  is  reckoned  a  very  sen- 
sible man ;  and  the  listener  saw  nothing  inconclusive 
in  the  elucidation. — England  and  the  English.  Bulwer. 

MR.    THOMAS   HILL. 

Mr.  Hill  died  a  year  or  two  ago — aged,  we  be- 
lieve, not  more  than  eighty -three,  though  Hook  and 
all  his  friends  affected  to  consider  him  as  quite  a 
Methusalah.  James  Smith  said  once,  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  discover  his  age,  for  the  parish  register 
had  been  burned  in  the  fire  of  London — but  Hook 
capped  this :  "  Pooh,  pooh !  he's  one  of  the  Little 
Hills  that  are  spoken  of  as  skipping  in  the  Psalms." 
As  a  mere  octogenarian  he  was  wonderful  enough, 
no  Tiuman  being  would,  from  his  appearance,  gait,  or 
habits,  have  guessed  him  to  be  sixty.  Till  within 
three  months  of  his  death  he  rose  at  five  usually,  and 
brought  the  materials  of  his  breakfast  home  with  him 
to  the  Adelphi,  from  a  walk  to  Billingsgate ;  and  at 
dinner  he  would  eat  and  drink  like  an  adjutant  of 


24  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

five-and-twenty.  One  secret  was,  that  a  banyan  day 
uniformly  followed  a  festivity.  He  then  nursed  him- 
self most  carefully  on  tea  and  dry  toast,  tasted  neither 
meat  nor  wine,  and  went  to  bed  by  eight  o'clock. 
But  perhaps  the  grand  secret  was,  the  easy,  imper- 
turbable serenity  of  his  temper.  He  had  been  kind 
and  generous  in  the  day  of  his  wealth,  and  although 
his  evening  was  comparatively  poor,  his  cheerful 
heart  kept  its  even  beat. — Quarterly  Review. 

TITLES  OF  BOOKS. 

There  is  a  kind  of  physiognomy  in  the  titles  of 
books  no  less  than  in  the  faces  of  men,  by  which  a 
skillful  observer  will  as  well  know  what  to  expect 
from  the  one  as  the  other. — Butler. 

THE  PLEASURES  OF  LONDON. 

Streets,  streets,  streets,  markets,  theatres,  churches, 
Covent  Gardens ;  shops  sparkling  with  pretty  faces  of 
industrious  milliners ;  neat  seamstresses ;  ladies  cheap- 
ening ;  gentlemen  behind  counters  lying ;  authors  in 
the  streets  with  spectacles,  (you  may  know  them  by 
their  gait ;)  lamps  lighted  at  night ;  pastrycook  and 
silversmiths'  shops ;  beautiful  quakers  of  Pentonville ; 
noise  of  coaches ;  drowsy  cry  of  mechanic  watchmen 
by  night,  with  bucks  reeling  home  drunk;  if  you 
happen  to  wake  at  midnight,  cries  of  fire  and  stop 
thief;  Inns  of  Court,  with  their  learned  air,  and  stalls 
and  butteries  just  like  Cambridge  colleges ;  old  book- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  25 

stalls,  "  Jeremy  Taylors,"  "  Burtons  on  Melancholy," 
and  "Religio  Medicis,"  on  every  stall.  These  are 
thy  pleasures,  0  London ! — Lamb. 

GENTLEMAN'S  MAGAZINE. 

That  great  lumber-room  wherein  small  ware  of  all 
kinds  has  been  laid  up  higgledy-piggledy,  by  half- 
pennyworths or  farthingworths  at  a  time,  for  four- 
score years,  till,  like  broken  glass,  rags,  or  rubbish, 
it  has  acquired  value  by  mere  accumulation. — The 
Doctor. 

ALEXANDER   HAMILTON. 

The  discerning  eye  of  Washington  immediately 
called  him  to  that  post  which  was  infinitely  the  most 
important  in  the  administration  of  the  new  system. 
Hamilton  was  made  secretary  of  the  treasury;  and 
how  he  fulfilled  the  duties  of  such  a  place,  at  such 
a  time,  the  whole  country  saw  with  admiration.  He 
smote  the  rock  of  the  national  resources,  and  the 
abundant  stream  of  revenue  gushed  forth.  He 
touched  the  dead  corpse  of  the  public  credit,  and 
it  sprang  upon  its  feet. — Daniel  Webster. 

GEORGE  SELWYN'S  BON-MOTS. 

We  shall  here  quote  some  of  the  best  of  Selwyn's 
witticisms  and  pleasantries,  and  prefer  rather  throw- 
ing them  all  together,  than  to  scatter  them  here  and 
there  about  the  book ;  as  it  enables  us  to  see  better  at 
a  glance  the  character  and  style  of  Selwyn's  wit. 

3 


26  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

When  a  subscription  was  proposed  for  Fox,  and 
some  one  was  observing  that  it  required  some  deli- 
cacy, and  wondering  how  Fox  would  take  it — "  Take 
it  ?  why,  quarterly,  to  be  sure." 

When  one  of  the  Foley  family  crossed  the  Channel 
to  avoid  his  creditors — "  It  is  a  passover  that  will  not 
be  much  relished  by  the  Jews." 

When  Fox  was  boasting  of  having  prevailed  on 
the  French  court  to  give  up  the  gum  trade — "  As  you 
have  permitted  the  French  to  draw  your  teeth,  they 
would  be  fools,  indeed,  to  quarrel  with  you  about 
your  gums." 

At  the  trial  of  the  rebel  lords,  seeing  Bethel's 
sharp  visage  looking  wistfully  at  the  prisoners,  he 
said :  "  What  a  shame  it  is  to  turn  her  face  to  the 
prisoners  until  they  are  condemned." 

Some  women  were  scolding  Selwyn  for  going  to 
see  the  execution,  and  asked  him  how  he  could  be 
such  a  barbarian  to  see  the  head  cut  off?  "  Nay," 
replied  he,  "  if  that  was  such  a  crime,  I  am  sure  I 
have  made  amends ;  for  I  went  to  see  it  sewed  on 
again." 

Orie  night  at  White's,  observing  the  Postmaster-/ 
general,  Sir  Everard  Fawkener,  losing  a  large  sum's 
of   money   at    piquet,    pointing    to    the    successful  ' 
player,  he  remarked — "See  how  he's  robbing  the 
mail!" 

On  another  occasion,  in  1756,  observing  Mr.  Pon- 
sonby,  the  Speaker  of  the  Irish  House  of  Commons, 
tossing  about  bank-bills  at  a  hazard-table  at  New- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  27 

market — "Look  how  easily  the  Speaker  passes  the 
money-bills." 

The  beautiful  Lady  Coventry  was  exhibiting  to 
him  a  splendid  new  dress,  covered  with  large  silver 
spangles  the  size  of  a  shilling,  and  inquired  of  him 
whether  he  admired  her  taste — "Why,  "said  he,  "you 
will  be  change  for  a  guinea" 

At  the  sale  of  the  effects  of  the  minister,  Mr. 
Pelham,  Selwyn,  pointing  to  a  silver  dinner-service, 
observed — •"  Lord,  how  many  toads  have  been  eaten 
off  those  plates !" 

A  namesake  of  Charles  Fox  having  been  hung  at 
Tyburn,  Fox  inquired  of  Selwyn  whether  he  had  at- 
tended the  execution — "  No,  I  make  a  point  of  never 
frequenting  rehearsals." 

A  fellow-passenger  in  a  coach,  imagining  from  his 
appearance  that  he  was  suffering,  from  illness,  kept 
wearying  him  with  good-natured  inquiries  as  to  the 
state  of  his  health.  At  length  to  the  repeated  ques- 
tion of  "How  are  you  now,  sir?"  Selwyn  replied — 
"  Yery  well,  I  thank  you ;  and  I  mean  to  continue  so 
for  the  rest  of  the  journey." 

He  was  one  day  walking  with  Lord  Pembroke, 
when  they  were  besieged  by  a  number,  of  young 
chimney-sweepers,  who  kept  plaguing  them  for 
money ;  at  length  Selwyn  made  them  a  low  bow — 
"  I  have  often,"  he  said,  "  heard  of  the  sovereignty 
of  the  people ;  I  suppose  your  highnesses  are  in  court 
mourning." — Edinburgh  Review. 


28  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

AMERICAN  ICE. 

Sydney  Smith,  in  London,  was  shown  a  lump  of 
American  ice,  upon  which  he  remarked,  "that  he 
was  glad  to  see  any  thing  solvent  come  from 
America." 

PLEASANT    TIMES. 

No  arts,  no  letters,  no  society,  and  which  is  worst 
of  all,  continual  fear  and  danger  of  violent  death ; 
and  the  life  of  man,  solitary,  poor,  nasty,  brutish, 
and  short. — Holies. 

MECHANICAL    DUTY. 

Schiller  used  to  say,  that  he  found  the  great 
happiness  of  life,  after  all,  to  consist  in  the  discharge 
of  some  mechanical  duty. 

CTJRRAN. 

I  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  the  little  man  through 
the  vista  of  his  garden.  There  he  was — on  a  third 
time  afterward,  I  saw  him  in  a  dress  which  you 
would  imagine  he  had  borrowed  from  his  tipstaff — 
his  hands  on  his  sides ;  his  under  lip  protruded ;  his 
face  almost  parallel  with  the  horizon;  and  the  im- 
portant step  and  eternal  attitude  only  varied  by  the 
pause  during  which  his  eye  glanced  from  his  guest 
to  his  watch,  and  from  his  watch  reproachfully  to  his 
dining-room:  it  was  an  invariable  peculiarity — one 
second  after  four  o'clock,  and  he  would  not  wait  for 


AFTER-DINNEIl     TABLE-TALK  29 

the  viceroy.  The  moment  he  perceived  me,  he  took 
me  by  the  hand,  said  he  would  not  have  any  one 
introduce  me;  and  with  a  manner  which  I  often 
thought  was  charmed,  he  at  once  banished  every 
apprehension,  and  completely  familiarized  me  at  the 
priory.  I  had  often  seen  Curran — often  heard  him 
— often  read  him ;  but  no  man  ever  knew  any  thing 
about  him,  who  did  not  see  him  at  his  own  table, 
with  the  few  whom  he  selected.  He  was  a  little 
convivial  deity ;  he  soared  in  every  region,  and  was 
at  home  in  all — he  touched  every  thing,  and  seemed 
as  if  he  had  created  it;  he  mastered  the  human 
heart,  with  the  same  ease  that  he  did  his  violin. 
You  wept,  and  you  laughed,  and  you  wondered ;  and 
the  wonderful  creature  who  made  you  do  all  at  will, 
never  let  it  appear  that  he  was  more  than  your  equal, 
and  was  quite  willing,  if  you  chose,  to  become  your 
auditor.  It  is  said  of  Swift  that  his  rule  was  to 
allow  a  minute's  pause  after  he  had  concluded,  and 
then,  if  no  person  took  up  the  conversation,  to 
recommence  himself.  Curran  had  no  conversational 
rule  whatever:  he  spoke  from  impulse,  and  he  had 
the  art  so  to  draw  you  into  a  participation,  that, 
though  you  felt  an  inferiority  it  was  quite  a  con- 
tented one.  Indeed  nothing  could  excel  the  urbanity 
of  his  demeanour.  At  the  time  I  speak  of  he  was 
turned  sixty,  yet  he  was  as  playful  as  a  child.  The 
extremes  of  youth  and  age  were  met  in  him:  he 
had  the  experience  of  the  one,  and  the  simplicity  of 
the  other. — Philips's  ^Recollections  of  Curran. 

3* 


30  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

ACTION. 

Indolence  is  a  delightful  but  distressing  state ; 
we  must  be  doing  something  to  be  happy.  Action 
is  no  less  necessary  than  thought  to  the  instinctive 
tendencies  of  the  human  frame. — Hazlitt. 

"EVERY  MAN'S  HOUSE  HIS  CASTLE." 

The  following  is  Lord  Chatham's  brilliant  illus- 
tration of  the  celebrated  maxim  in  English  law,  that 
every  man's  house  is  his  castle :  "  The  poorest  man 
may  in  his  cottage  bid  defiance  to  all  the  forces  of 
the  crown.  It  may  be  frail ;  its  roof  may  shake ; 
the  wind  may  blow  through  it;  the  storm  may  en- 
ter, the  rain  may  enter — but  the  king  of  England 
cannot  enter !  all  his  forces  dare  not  cross  the  thresh- 
old of  the  ruined  tenement  I" 

ATTERBURY'S  WIT. 

Atterbury,  the  celebrated  bishop  of  Rochester,  the 
friend  of  the  tory  statesmen  in  the  time  of  Queen 
Anne,  happened  to  say  in  the  House  of  Lords,  while 
speaking  on  a  certain  bill  then  under  discussion,  that 
he  had  prophesied  last  winter  this  bill  would  be 
attempted  in  the  present  session,  and  he  now  was 
sorry  to  find  he  had  proved  a  true  prophet.  Lord 
Coningsby,  who  spoke  after  the  bishop,  and  always 
spoke  in  a  passion,  desired  the  house  to  remark  that 
one  of  the  right-reverend  had  set  himself  forth  as  a 
prophet;  but,  for  his  part,  he  did  not  know  what 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  31 

prophet  to  liken  him  to,  unless  to  that  furious  pro- 
phet Balaam,  who  was  reproved  by  his  own  ass. 
Atterbury,  in  reply,  with  great  wit  and  calmness 
exposed  this  rude  attack,  concluding  thus:  "Since 
the  noble  lord  has  discovered  in  our  manners  such  a 
similitude,  I  am  well  content  to  be  compared  to  the 
prophet  Balaam ;  but,  my  lords,  I  am  at  a  loss  how 
to  make  out  the  other  part  of  the  parallel:  I  am 
sure  that  I  have  been  reproved  by  nobody  but  his 
lordship !" — King's  Memoirs. 

CURIOUS  REMARK  ON  VANITY. 

Franklin  says :  "  Most  people  dislike  vanity  in 
others,  whatever  share  they  have  of  it  themselves; 
but  I  give  it  fair  quarter  wherever  I  meet  with  it, 
being  persuaded  that  it  is  often  productive  of  good 
to  the  possessor,  and  to  others  who  are  within  his 
sphere  of  action;  and  therefore,  in  many  cases,  it 
would  not  be  altogether  absurd  if  a  man  were  to 
thank  God  for  his  vanity,  among  the  other  comforts 
of  life." 

HAPPY   EPITHET. 

Lord  Erskine,  speaking  of  animals,  and  hesitating 
to  call  them  brutes,  hit  upon  a  happy  phrase — the 
mute  creation. 

BAD   TRANSLATORS. 

• 

It  was  the  remark  of  Madame  La  Fayette,  that  a 
bad  translator  was  like  an  ignorant  footman,  whose 
blundering  messages  disgraced  his  master  by  the 


32  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK 

awkwardness  of  the  delivery,  and  frequently  turned 
compliment  into  abuse,  and  politeness  into  rusticity. 


BORES. 


It  is  to  be  hoped  that,  with  all  the  modern  im- 
provements, a  mode  will  be  discovered  of  getting 
rid  of  bores ;  for  it  is  too  bad  that  a  poor  wretch  can 
be  punished  for  stealing  your  pocket-handkerchief 
or  gloves,  and  that  no  punishment  can  be  inflicted 
on  those  who  steal  your  time,  and  with  it  your  tem- 
per and  patience,  as  well  as  the  bright  thoughts  that 
might  have  entered  into  your  mind,  (like  the  Irish- 
man who  lost  the  fortune  before  he  had  got  it,)  but 
were  frightened  away  by  the  bore. — Byron. 


SIR    PHILIP    FRANCIS. 


A  person  having  upon  one  occasion  got  Sir  Philip 
Francis  into  a  corner,  and  innocently  mistaking  his 
agitations  and  gestures  for  extreme  interest  in  the 
narrative  which  he  was  administering  to  his  patient, 
was  somewhat  confounded,  when  the  latter,  seizing 
him  by  the  collar,  exclaimed  with  an  oath,  that  "  Hu- 
man nature  could  endure  no  .more." 

In  all  this,  there  was  a  consistency  and  •uniformity 
that  was  extremely  racy  and  amusing.  He  is  not 
now  present  to  cry  out,  "  What  does  that  mean,  sir  ? 
what  would  you  be  at?  No  gibberish!"  and  there- 
fore it  may  be  observed  that  there  was  something 
exceedingly  piquant  in  his  character. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  33 

He  was  wont  to  say  that  he  had  nearly  survived 
the  good  manly  words  of  assent  and  denial,  the  yes 
and  no  of  oar  ancestors,  and  could  now  hear  nothing 
but  "  unquestionably,"  "  certainly,"  "  undeniably,"  or 
"  by  no  means,"  and  "  I  rather  think  not ;"  forms  of 
speech  to  which  he  gave  the  most  odious  and  con- 
temptuous names,  as  effeminate  and  emasculated,  and 
would  turn  into  ridicule,  by  caricaturing  the  pronun- 
ciation of  the  words.  Thus  he  would  drawl  out 
"  unquestionably",  in  a  faint  childish  tone,  and  then 
say,  "  Gracious  God !  does  he  mean  yes  ?  Then,  why 
not  say  so  at  once,  like  a  man?"  As  for  the  sliplsop 
of  some  fluent  talkers  in  society,  who  exclaim  that 
they  are  "  so  delighted,"  or  "  so  shocked,"  and  speak 
of  things  being  pleasing  or  hateful  "  to  a  degree ;"  he 
would  bear  down  upon  them  without  mercy,  and 
roar  out,  "  To  what  degree  ?  Your  word  means  any 
thing,  and  every  thing,  and  nothing." — Brougham. 

POPE'S    COMPLIMENTS. 

Nothing  ever  exceeded  Pope's  compliments,  in 
delicacy  or  elegance.  Charles  Lamb  said  they  were 
the  finest  ever  paid  by  the  wit  of  man;  that  each  of 
them  is  worth  an  estate  for  life. 

What  can  be  finer,  or  more  artfully  constructed, 
than  that  to  Lord  Cornbury : 

"  Would  ye  be  blessed  ?  despise  low  joys,  low  gains ; 
Disdain  whatever  Cornbury  disdains ; 
Be  virtuous,  and  be  happy  for  your  pains." 


34  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

And  that  masterly  one  to  Lord  Mansfield : 

"  Conspicuous  scene !  another  yet  is  nigh, 
(More  silent  far,)  where  kings  and  poets  lie ; 
Where  Murray,  (long  enough  his  country's  pride,) 
Shall  be  no  more  than  Tully  or  than  Hyde." 

And  with  what  a  fine  turn  of  indignant  flattery, 
he  addresses  Lord  Bolingbroke : 

"  Why  rail  they  then,  if  but  one  wreath  of  mine, 
Oh !  all  accomplished  St.  John !  deck  thy  shrine  ?" 

Discoursing  of  the  "ruling  passion,"  he  says  to 
Lord  Cobham : 

"  And  you,  brave  Cobham !  to  the  latest  breath, 
Shall  feel  your  ruling  passion  strong  in  death ; 
Such  in  those  moments,  as  in  all  the  past, 
'  Oh  1  save  my  country,  Heaven !'  shall  be  your  last." 

Speaking  of  his  grotto,  (one  of  Pope's  miserable 
affectations),  he  takes  occasion  to  pay  two  very  pretty 
compliments  to  Bolingbroke  and  Lord  Peterborough. 

"  There  my  retreat  the  best  companions  grace, 
Chiefs  out  of  war,  and  statesmen  out  of  place : 
There  St.  John  mingles  with  my  friendly  bowl, 
The  feast  of  reason  and  the  flow  of  soul : 
And  he,  whose  lightning  pierc'd  th'  Iberian  lines, 
Now  forms  my  quincunx,  and  now  ranks  my  vines ; 
Or  tames  the  genius  of  the  stubborn  plain, 
Almost  as  quickly  as  he  conquered  Spain." 

In  his  first  Pastoral,  written  when  but  sixteen,  he 
compliments  his  friend,  Sir  John  Trumbull,  then  in 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  35 

retirement,  in  these  lines,  which  contrast  strongly 
with  the  succeeding  babble : 

"  You  that  too  wise  for  pride,  too  good  for  power, 
Enjoy  live  glory  to  be  great  no  more, 
And  carrying  with  you  all  the  world  can  boast, 
To  all  the  world  illustriously  are  lost." 

In  the  Prologue  to  the  Satires,  written  long  after, 
he  recalls  the  other  friends  of  his  youth : 

"  Granville  the  polite, 

And  knowing  Walsh,  would  tell  me  I  could  write ; 
Well-natured  Garth  inflamed  with  early  praise, 
And  Congreve  loved,  and  Swift  endured,  my  lays  ; 
The  courtly  Talbot,  Somers,  Sheffield,  read, 
E'en  mitred  Rochester  would  nod  the  head, 
And  St.  John's  self,  (great  Dryden's  friend  before,) 
With  open  arms  received  one  poet  more. 
Happy  my  studies,  when  by  these  approved, 
Happier  their  author,  when  by  these  beloved  1 
From  these  the  world  will  judge  of  men  and  books." 

In  another  place  he  pays  "  well-natured  Garth"  a 
well-deserved  (which  cannot  be  said  of  all)  compli- 
ment of  surpassing  excellence : 

"  Farewell  Arbuthnot's  raillery  on  every  learned  sot — 
And  Garth,  the  best  good  Christian  he,  although  he  knows  it  not." 

What  noble  lines  are  the  following ! 

"  God  knows  I  praise  a  courtier  when  I  can. 
When  I  confess  there  is  who  feels  for  fame, 
And  melts  to  goodness,  need  I  Scarb'row  name  ? 


36  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 


E'en  in  a  bishop  I  can  spy  desert  ;— 

Manners  with  candor  are  to  Benson  given, 

To  Berkeley  every  virtue  under  heaven. 

But  does  the  court  a  worthy  man  remove, 

That  instant  I  declare  he  has  my  love. 

I  shun  his  zenith,  court  his  mild  decline,— 

Thus  Somers  once,  and  Halifax,  were  mine  ; 

Oft  in  the  still,  clear  mirror  of  retreat 

I  studied  Shrewsbury,  the  wise  and  great ; 

Carleton's  clear  sense,  and  Stanhope's  noble  flame 

Compared,  and  knew  their  generous  end  the  same. 

How  pleasing  Atterbury's  softer  hour ! 

How  shined  the  soul  unconquered,  in  the  Tower ! 

How  can  I  Pulteney,  Chesterfield,  forget, 

"While  Roman  spirit  charms  and  Attic  wit  ? 

Argyle,  the  state's  whole  thunder  born  to  wield, 

And  shake  alike  the  senate  and  the  field  ? 

Or  Wyndham,  just  to  freedom  and  the  throne, 

The  master  of  our  passions  and  his  own  j" 

And  some  of  these : 

"  Approach  !  but  awful !  lo  !  the  ./Egerian  grot, 
Where  nobly  pensive  St.  John  sat  and  thought ; 
Where  British  sighs  from  dying  Wyndham  stole, 
And  the  bright  flame  was  shot  through  Marchmont's  soul. 
Let  such,  such  only,  tread  this  sacred  floor 
Who  dare  to  love  their  country  and  be  poor." 

Can  any  one  doubt,  after  reading  all  these,  whether 
or  not  Pope  was  a  poet? 


MIND   AND  BODY. 

Old  Sir  James  Herring  was  remonstrated  with  for 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  37 

not  rising  earlier — "  I  can  make  up  my  mind  to  it," 
said  he,  "but  cannot  make  up  my  body."  - -m 

CURIOSITY. 

Curiosity  is  a  kernel  of  the  forbidden  fruit,  which 
still  sticketh  in  the  throat  of  a  natural  man,  some- 
times to  the  danger  of  his  choking. — Fuller. 

WANT  OF  A  PURSUIT. 

A  man  without  a  predominant  inclination  is  not 
likely  to  be  either  useful  or  happy.  He  who  is  every 
thing  is  nothing. — /Sharp. 

BRANDY- AND- WATER . 

Of  this  mixture  Charles  Lamb  said  that  it  spoiled 
two  good  things. 

LOVE  OF  THE  WONDERFUL. 

What  stronger  pleasure  is  there  with  mankind,  or 
what  do  they  earlier  learn  or  longer  retain,  than  tlie 
love  of  hearing  and  relating  tilings  strange  and  incredible. 
How  wonderful  a  thing  is  the  love  of  wondering  and 
of  raising  wonder  I  'Tis  the  delight  of  children  to  hear 
tales  they  shiver  at,  and  the  vice  of  old  men  to 
abound  in  strange  stories  of  times  past.  We  come 
into  the  world  wondering  at  every  thing ;  and  when 
our  wonder  about  common  things  is  over,  we  seek 
something  new  to  wonder  at.  Our  last  scene  is  to 
tell  wonders  of  our  own,  to  all  who  will  believe  them. 
And  amidst  all  this,  'tis  well  if  truth  comes  off  but 
moderately  tainted. — Shaftesbury. 

4. 


38  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 


CLERICAL   FOPS. 


•There  is  a  class  of  fops  not  usually  designated  by 
that  epithet — men  clothed  in  profound  black,  with 
large  canes,  and  strange,  amorphous  hats — of  big 
speech,  and  imperative  presence — talkers  about  Platj 
— great  affecters  of  senility — despisers  of  women,  and 
all  the  graces  of  life — fierce  foes  to  common-sense — 
abusive  of  the  living,  and  approving  no  one  who  has 
not  been  dead  for  at  least  a  century.  Such  fops,  as 
vain  and  as  shallow  as  their  fraternity  in  Bond- 
street,  differ  from  these  only  as  Gorgonius  differed 
from  RufiHus. — Sydney  Smith. 


LYING.  v 

Although  the  devil  be  the  father  of  lies,  he  seems, 
like  other  great  inventors,  to  have  lost  much  of  his 
reputation,  by  the  continual  improvements  that  have 
been  made  upon  him. — Swift. 

THE    HEALTHY   MAN. 

Of  all  the  know-nothing  persons  in  this  world, 
commend  us  to  the  man  who  has  "  never  known  a 
day's  illness."  He  is  a  moral  dunce,  one  who  has 
lost  the  greatest  lesson  in  life ;  who  has  skipped  the 
finest  lecture  in  that  great  school  of  humanity,  the 
sick-chamber.  Let  him  be  versed  in  mathematics, 
profound  in  metaphysics,  a  ripe  scholar  in  the  clas- 
sics, a  bachelor  of  arts,  or  even  a  doctor  in  divinity ; 
yet  is  he  as  one  of  those  gentlemen  whose  education 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  39 

has  been  neglected.  For  all  his  college  acquirements, 
how  inferior  is  he  in  useful  knowledge  to  a  mortal  who 
has  had  but  a  quarter's  gout,  or  half  a  year's  ague 
— how  infinitely  below  the  fellow-creature  who  has 
been  soundly  taught  his  tic-douloureux,  thoroughly 
grounded  in  the  rheumatics,  and  deeply  red  in  scarlet 
fever  I  And  yet,  what  is  more  common  than  to  hear 
a  great  hulking,  florid  fellow,  bragging  of  an  igno- 
rance, a  brutal  ignorance,  that  he  shares  in  common 
with  the  pig  and  bullock,  the  generality  of  which 
die,  probably,  without  ever  having  experienced  a 
day's  indisposition  ? — Hood. 

PLAIN    TRUTH. 

One  of  the  sublimest  things  in  the  world,  is  plain 
truth ! — Bulwer. 

SELF-IMPORTANCE. 

Of  such  mighty  importance  every  man  is  to  him- 
self, and  ready  to  think  he  is  so  to  others ;  without 
once  making  this  easy  and  obvious  reflection,  that 
his  affairs  can  have  no  more  weight  with  other  men 
than  theirs  have  with  him ;  and  how  little  that  is,  he 
is  sensible  enough. — Swift. 

MISERS. 

The  passion  for  wealth  has  worn  out  much  of  its 
grossness  by  tract  of  time.  Our  ancestors  certainly 
conceived  of  money  as  able  to  confer  a  distinct  grati- 
fication in  itself,  not  alone  considered  simply  as  a  sym- 


40  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

bol  of  wealth.  The  oldest  poets,  when  they  introduce 
a  miser,  constantly  make  him  address  his  gold  as  his 
mistress ;  as  something  to  be  seen,  felt,  and  hugged ; 
as  capable  of  satisfying  two  of  the  senses  at  least. 
The  substitution  of  a  thin,  unsatisfying  medium  for 
the  good  old  tangible  gold,  has  made  avarice  quite  a 
Platonic  affection  in  comparison  with  the  seeing, 
touching,  and  handling  pleasures  of  the  old  Chryso- 
philities.  A  bank-note  can  no  more  satisfy  the  touch 
of  a  true  sensualist  in  this  passion,  than  Creusa  could 
return  her  husband's  embrace  in  the  shades. 

A  miser  is  sometimes  a  grand  personification  of 
Fear.  He  has  a  fine  horror  of  Poverty ;  and  he  is 
not  content  to  keep  Want  from  the  door,  or  at  arm's 
length — but  he  places  it,  by  heaping  wealth  upon 
wealth,  at  a  sublime  distance  ! — Lamb. 

TAVERNS. 

Dr.  Johnson  breaks  out  into  a  high  encomium 
upon  taverns:  "There  is  no  private  house,"  he  re- 
marks, "in  which  people  can  enjoy  themselves  so 
well  as  at  a  capital  tavern.  Let  there  be  ever  so 
great  plenty  of  good  things,  ever  so  much  grandeur, 
ever  so  much  .elegance,  ever  so  much  desire  that 
every  body  should  be  easy,  in  the  nature  of  things  it 
cannot  be :  there  must  always  be  some  degree  of  care 
and  anxiety.  The  master  of  the  house  is  anxious  to 
entertain  his  guests;  the  guests  are  anxious  to  be 
agreeable  to  him ;  and  no  man,  but  a  very  impudent 
dog  indeed,  can  as  freely  command  what  is  in  another 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  41 

man's  house  as  if  it  were  his  own :  whereas,  in  a  tav- 
ern, there  is  a  general  freedom  from  anxiety.  1fou 
are  sure  you  are  welcome ;  and  the  more  noise  you 
make,  the  more  trouble  you  give,  the  more  good 
things  you  call  for,  the  welcomer  you  are.  No  ser- 
vant will  attend  you  with  the  alacrity  which  waiters 
do,  who  are  incited  by  the  prospect  of  an  immediate 
reward  in  proportion  as  they  please.  No,  sir ;  there 
is  nothing  which  has  yet  been  contrived  by  man,  by 
which  so  much  happiness  is  produced,  as  by  a  good 
tavern  or  inn." 

Archbishop  Leighton  used  often  to  say,  that  if  he 
were  to  choose  a  place  to  die  in,  it  should  be  an  inn. 

MISTAKE    ON   BOTH   SIDES. 

Voltaire  was  one  day  speaking  warmly  in  praise 
of  the  physician  Haller,  in  presence  of  a  person  who 
was  living  in  his  house.  "  Ah,  sir,"  said  this  person, 
"  if  M.  Haller  would  but  speak  of  your  works  as  you 
speak  of  his."  "Possibly  we  are  both  mistaken," 
said  Voltaire. 


PRESENTS. 


If  presents  be  not  the  soul  of  friendship,  doubt- 
less they  are  the  most  spiritual  part  of  the  body  in 
that  intercourse.  There  is  too  much  narrowness  of 
thinking  on  this  point !  The  punctilio  of  acceptance, 
methinks,  is  too  confined  and  straitened.  I  should  be 
content  to  receive  money,  or  clothes,  or  a  joint  of 
meat  from  a  friend.  Why  should  he  not  send  me  a 
4* 


42  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

dinner  as  well  as  a  dessert  ?     I  would  taste  him  in  the 
beasts  of  the  field,  and  through,  all  creation. — Lamb. 

INFANTS. 

Some  admiring  what  motives  to  mirth  infants 
meet  with  in  their  silent  and  solitary  smiles,  have 
resolved,  how  truly  I  know  not,  that  they  converse 
with  angels;  as,  indeed,  such  cannot  among  mortals 
find  any  fitter  companions. — Fuller. 

DISCRETION. 

There  is  no  talent  so  useful  towards  rising  in  the 
world,  or  which  puts  men  more  out  of  the  reach  of 
fortune,  than  that  quality  generally  possessed  by  the 
dullest  sort  of  men,  and  in  common  speech  called 
discretion ;  a  species  of  lower  prudence,  by  the  as- 
sistance of  which,  people  of  the  meanest  intellects, 
without  any  other  qualification,  pass  through  the 
world  in  great  tranquillity,  and  with  universal  good 
treatment,  neither  giving  nor  taking  offence. — Swift. 

INTELLIGIBILITY. 

It  would  be  well,  both,  for  the  public  and  the 
writers  themselves,  if  some  authors  would  but  adopt 
Lord  Falkland's  method,  before  publishing  his  works, 
who,  when  he  doubted  whether  a  word  was  perfectly 
intelligible  or  not,  used  to  consult  one  of  his  lady's 
chambermaids,  (not  the  waiting-woman,  because  it 
was  possible  she  might  be  conversant  in  romances,) 
and  by  her  judgment  was  guided  whether  to  receive 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  43 

or  reject  it.     Swift  pursued,  it  is  said,  a  like  method 
of  reading  his  works  to  the  unlearned. 

ANTIQUITY    OF   AGRICULTURE. 

The  first  three  men  in  the  world  were  a  gardener, 
a  ploughman,  and  a  grazier;  and  if  any  man  object 
that  the  second  of  these  was  a  murderer,  I  desire  he 
would  consider,  that  as  soon  as  he  was  so,  he  quitted 
our  profession  and  turned  builder. — Gowley. 

MR.    PERKINS,    THE    DIVINE. 

He  had  a  capacious  head,  with  angles  winding 
and  roomy  enough  for  all  controversial  intricacies. 
He  would  pronounce  the  word  damn,  with  such  an 
emphasis  as  left  a  doleful  echo  in  his  auditor's  ears 
a  good  while  afterward. — Fuller. 

SUSPICION. 

Always  to  think  the  worst,  I  have  ever  found  to 
be  the  mark  of  a  mean  spirit  and  a  base  soul. — 
Bolingbroke. 

CANNIBALS. 

Lamb  writes  to  his  friend  Manning,  to  dissuade 
him  from  going  to  China,  and  endeavours  to  instill 
the  fear  of  cannibals  into  his  mind.  "  Some  say  the 
Tartars  are  cannibals,  and  then  conceive  a  fellow 
eating  my  friend,  and  adding  the  cool  malignity  of 
mustard  and  vinegar."  This  reminds  one  of  the 
advice  Sydney  Smith  is  said  to  have  given  to  the 


44  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

bishop  of  New  Zealand,  previous  to  his  departu/*, 
recommending  him  to  have  regard  to  the  minor  av 
well  as  to  the  more  grave  duties  of  his  station — to  be 
given  to  hospitality — and,  in  order  to  meet  the  tastes 
of  his  native  guests,  never  to  be  without  a  smoked 
little  boy  in  the  bacon-rack,  and  a  cold  clergyman  on 
the  sideboard.  "And  as  for  myself,  my  lord,"  he 
concluded,  "all  I  can  say  is,  that  when  your  new 
parishioners  do  eat  you,  I  hope  you  will  disagree 
with  them." 

FLOGGING   AT    SCHOOL. 

If  the  dead  have  any  cognizance  of  posthumous 
fame,  one  would  think  it  must  abate  somewhat  of  the 
pleasures  with  which  Virgil  and  Ovid  regard  their 
earthly  immortality,  when  they  see  to  what  base 
purposes  their  productions  are  employed.  That  their 
voices  should  be  administered  to  boys  in  regular 
doses,  as  lessons  or  impositions,  and  some  dim  con- 
ception whipped  into  the  tail  when  it  has  failed  to 
penetrate  the  head,  cannot  be  just  the  sort  of  homage 
to  their  genius  which  they  anticipated  or  desired. — 
The  Doctor. 

A   DINNER-PARTY. 

An  excellent  and  well-arranged  dinner,  is  a  most 
pleasing  occurrence,  and  a  great  triumph  of  civilized 
life.  It  is  not  only  the  descending  morsel  and  the 
enveloping  sauce,  but  the  rank,  wealth,  wit,  and 
beauty  which  surround  the  meats ;  the  learned  man- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  45 

agement  of  light  and  heat ;  the  silent  and  rapid  ser- 
vices of  the  attendants;  the  smiling  and  sedulous 
host,  proffering  gusts  and  relishes ;  the  exotic  bottles ; 
the  embossed  plate ;  the  pleasant  remarks ;  the  hand- 
some dresses;  the  cunning  artifices  in  fruit  and 
farina!  The  hour  of  dinner,  in  short,  includes 
every  thing  of  sensual  and  intellectual  gratification, 
which  a  great  nation  glories  in  producing. — Sydney 
Smith. 

LITERARY   ENTERTAINMENTS. 

Menage  makes  mention  of  a  person,  who  occasion- 
ally gave  entertainments  to  authors.  His  fancy  was 
to  place  them  at  table,  each  according  to  the  size  and 
thickness  of  the  volumes  they  had  published,  com- 
mencing with  the  folio  authors,  and  proceeding 
through  the  quarto  and  octavo,  down  to  the  duode- 
cimo, each  according  to  his  rank. 

DULLNESS. 

"  A  man,"  said  Tom  Brown,  "  is  never  ruined  by 
dullness." 

SCOLDING   AND    QUARRELLING 

Have  something  of  familiarity  and  a  commnnity 
of  interest ;  they  imply  acquaintance ;  they  are  of 
one  sentiment,  which  is  of  the  family  of  dearness. 
— Lamb. 

HUMAN    LIFE. 

When  all  is  done,  human  life  is,  at  the  greatest 
and  the  best,  but  -like  a  froward  child  that  must  be 


46  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

played  with,  and  humoured  a  little  to  keep  it  quiet  till 
it  falls  asleep,  and  then  the  care  is  over. — Sir  William 
Temple. 


THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE. 


They  may  talk  as  they  will  of  the  dead  languages. 
Our  auxiliary  verbs  give  us  a  power  which  the  an- 
cients, with  all  their  varieties  of  mood,  and  inflec- 
tions of  tense,  never  could  obtain. — The  Doctor. 

EXCUSE  FOR  A  LONG  LETTER. 

In  a  postscript  to  one  of  the  "  Provincial  Letters," 
Pascal  excuses  himself  for  the  letter  being  so  long, 
on  the  plea  that  he  had  not  had  time  to  make  it 
shorter. 


REAL    MANNERS. 


Good  manners  is  the  art  of  making  those  people 
easy  with  whom  we  converse.  Whoever  makes  the 
fewest  persons  uneasy,  is  the  best  bred  in  the  com- 
pany.— Swift. 


ECCENTRIC    TASTE. 


George  Selwyn  was  noted  for  a  passion  for  the 
details  of  criminal  justice,  from  "  the  warrant  to  the 
rope ;"  and  his  friends  always  made  it  a  point  of 
gratifying  this  peculiarity,  by  sending  him  news  ot 
criminals,  executions,  &c.  When  Horace  Walpole's 
house  in  Arlington-street  was  broken  open,  he  dis- 
patched a  messenger  to  Selwyn,  to  inform  him  of 
the  fact,  and  of  his  having  secured  the  thief.  It 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  47 

happened  that  the  person  who  received  the  message 
had  lately  been  robbed  himself,  and  had  the  wound 
fresh  in  his  mind.  "He  stalked  up  into  the  club- 
room,"  relates  "Walpole,  "stopped  short,  and  with 
a  hollow  trembling  voice  said,  'Mr.  Selwyn,  Mr. 
Walpole's  compliments,  and  he's  got  a  housebreaker 
for  you.' " 

JOHN   RANDOLPH. 

The  celebrated  John  Eandolph  not  wishing  to 
reply  to  a  disagreeable  question  put  to  him  in  Con- 
gress, evaded  it  by  saying,  "  Sir,  that  is  a  question, 
and  I  never  answer  questions." 

DUELLING, 

Though  barbarous  in  civilized,  is  a  highly  civil- 
ized institution  among  barbarous  people ;  and  when 
compared  to  assassination,  is  a  prodigious  victory 
gained  over  human  passions. — Sydney  Smith. 

APES. 

Human  creatures  who  were  left  unfinished  because 
they  were  made  so  late  on  Saturday  that  the  Sunday 
put  a  stop  to  the  work. — South&y. 

FASTIDIOUS    TASTES. 

A  fastidious  taste  is  like  a  squeamish  appetite: 
the  one  has  its  origin  in  some  disease  of  the  mind, 
as  the  other  has  in  some  ailment  of  the  stomach. — 
The  Doctor. 


48  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

ILL-NATTTRED   PERSONS. 

If  thou  be  a  severe,  sour-complexioned  man,  then 
here  I  disallow  thee  to  be  a  competent  judge. — IsaaJc 
Walton. 

EMPTY    MINDS. 

Some  men  do  wisely  to  counterfeit  a  reservedness, 
to  keep  their  chests  always  locked,  not  for  fear  any 
one  should  steal  treasure  thence,  but  lest  some  one 
should  look  in  and  see,  that  there  is  nothing  within 
them. — Fuller. 

BURNING    CHIMNEY-SWEEPS. 

A  large  party  are  invited  to  dinner,  a  great  dis- 
play is  to  be  made ;  and  about  an  hour  before  dinner, 
there  is  an  alarm  that  the  kitchen  chimney  is  on  fire  ! 
It  is  impossible  to  put  off  the  distinguished  persons 
who  are  expected.  It  gets  very  late  for  the  soup 
and  fish;  the  cook  is  frantic;  all  eyes  are  turned 
upon  the  sable  consolation  of  the  master  chimney- 
sweeper ;  and  up  into  the  midst  of  the  burning 
chimney  is  sent  one  of  the  miserable  little  infants  of 
the  brush !  There  is  a  positive  prohibition  of  this 
practice,  and  an  enactment  of  penalties  in  one  of  the 
acts  of  parliament  which  respect  chimney-sweepers. 
But  what  matters  acts  of  parliament,  when  the 
pleasures  of  genteel  people  are  concerned  ?  Or  what 
is  a  toasted  child,  compared  to  the  agonies  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house  with  a  deranged  dinner. — Sydney 
Smith. 


AFTER-DINNER   TABLE-TALK.  49 

BUTLER'S  WIT. 

The  earl  of  Dorset,  having  a  great  desire  to  pass 
an  evening  with  Butler,  as  a  private  gentleman,  pre- 
vailed upon  a  common  friend,  Mr.  Shepherd,  to  intro- 
duce him  into  his  company  at  a  tavern  to  which 
they  both  resorted.  This  being  done,  Butler,  while 
the  first  bottle  was  being  drunk,  appeared  very  flat 
and  heavy ;  at  the  second  bottle  extremely  brisk  and 
lively,  abounding  in  wit  and  learning,  and  making 
himself  a  most  agreeable  companion ;  when  the  third 
bottle  was  finished,  he  again  sank  into  such  stupidity 
and  dullness,  that  hardly  any  body  could  have  be- 
lieved him  to  be  the  author  of  Hudibras.  The  next 
day,  the  earl  of  Dorset  was  asked  his  opinion  of  him ; 
he  answered,  "He  is  like  a  ninepinj  little  at  both 
ends,  but  great  in  the  middle." 


THE    PROTESTANT    CHURCH. 


John  "Wilkes  was  once  asked  by  a  Roman  Cath- 
olic gentleman,  in  a  warm  dispute  on  religion, 
"Where  was  your  church  before  Luther?"  "Did 
you  wash  your  face  this  morning?"  inquired  the  fa- 
cetious alderman.  "  I  did,  sir."  "  Then  pray,  where 
was  your  face  before  it  was  washed  ?" 

THE    POWER   OP    HABIT. 

The  power  of  habit  is  exemplified  in  the  case  of 
Jonathan  Wild  and  Count  Fathom ;  Mr.  Wild  could 
not  keep  his  hands  out  the  Count's  pockets,  although 
he  knew  they  were  empty ;  nor  could  the  Count  ab- 

5 


60  AT  TEE-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

stain  from  palming  a  card,  although  he  was  well 
aware  "Wild  had  no  money  to  pay  him. 

ESSAYS    ON    TASTE. 

There  are  some  readers  who  have  never  read  an 
essay  on  taste,  and  if  they  take  my  advice  they  never 
will ;  for  they  can  no  more  improve  their  taste  by  so 
doing,  than  they  could  improve  their  appetite  or 
digestion  by  studying  a  cookery  book. — The  Doctor. 

EMPTY   AND    CROWDED    CHURCH. 

In  the  latter,  it  is  chance  but  some  present  human 
frailty — an  act  of  inattention  on  the  part  of  some  of 
the  auditory — or  a  trait  of  affectation,  or,  worse,  vain 
glory  on  that  of  the  preacher — puts  us  by  our  best 
thoughts,  disharmonizing  the  place  and  the  occasion. 
But  wouldst  thou  know  the  beauty  of  holiness  ?  go 
alone  on  some  week  day,  borrowing  the  keys  of  good 
master  sexton ;  traverse  the  cool  aisles  of  some  coun- 
try church ;  think  of  the  piety  that  has  knelt  there — 
the  congregations,  old  and  young,  that  have  found 
consolation  there — the  meek  pastor — the  docile  par- 
ishioners —  with  no  disturbing  emotions,  no  cross 
conflicting  comparisons,  drink  in  the  tranquillity  of 
the  place,  till  thou  thyself,  become  fixed  as  the  mar- 
ble effigies  that  kneel  and  weep  around  thee. — Lamb. 

TEDIOUS    PERSONS. 

A  tedious  person  is  one  a  man  would  leap  a 
steeple  from. — Ben  Jonson. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  51 

MORTALITY. 

To  smell  to  a  Jurf  of  fresh  earth,  is  wholesome  for 
the  body ;  no  less  are  thoughts  of  mortality  cordial 
to  the  soul.  "Earth  thou  art,  to  earth  thou  shalt 
return.'1'1 — Fuller. 

LATE  HOURS. 

Mr.  Barham,  author  of  the  Ingolsby  Legends, 
when  a  youth,  studied  with  Mr.  Hodson,  afterward 
principal  of  Brazennose.  This  gentleman,  who,  doubt- 
less discerning,  spite  of  an  apparent  levity,  much  that 
was  amiable  and  high-minded  in  his  pupil,  treated 
him  with  marked  indulgence,  sent,  however,  on  one 
occasion,  to  demand  an  explanation  of  his  continued 
absence  from  morning  chapel.  "The  fact  is,  sir," 
urged  his  pupil,  "you  are  too  late  for  me."  "Too 
late !"  repeated  the  tutor,  in  astonishment.  "  Yes, 
sir ;  I  cannot  sit  up  till  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning ; 
I  am  a  man  of  regular  habits,  and  unless  I  get  to  bed 
by  four  or  five  at  latest,  I  am  really  fit  for  nothing 
next  day." — Life  of  Barham. 

THE    BEST    STYLE.  . 

Take  this,  reader,  for  a  general  rule,  that  the 
readiest  and  plainest  style  is  the  most  forcible,  (if 
the  head  be  but  properly  stored,)  and  that  in  all  ordi- 
nary cases,  the  word  which  first  presents  itself  is  the 
best. — The  Doctor. 

When  a  man's  thoughts  are  clear,  the  properest 
words  will  generally  offer  themselves  first,  and  his 


52  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

own  judgment  will  direct  him  in  what  order  to  place 
them,  so  as  they  may  be  best  understood. — Swift. 


NOTES    OF    ADMIRATION. 


Swift  mentions  a  gentleman,  who  made  it  a  rule 
in  reading,  to  skip  over  all  sentences  where  he  spied 
a  note  of  admiration  at  the  end. 


THE    BEST   KIND    OF    ACID. 


Martin  Burney  was  one  day  explaining  the  three 
kinds  of  acid,  very  lengthily,  to  Charles  Lamb,  when 
the  latter  stopped  him  by  saying :  "  The  best  of  all 
kind  of  acid,  however,  as  you  know,  Martin,  is  uity 
— assiduity." 

BREVITY. 

These  are  my  thoughts ;  I  might  have  spun  them 
out  to  a  greater  length,  but  I  think  a  little  plot  of 
ground,  thick  sown,  is  better  than  a  great  field, 
which,  for  the  most  part  of  it,  lies  fallow. — Norris. 


CHILDREN. 


"Oh!  what  blockheads  are  those  wise  persons," 
exclaims  Southey,  "who  think  it  necessary  that  a 
child  should  comprehend  every  thing  it  reads." 


OLD   ANGELS. 


A  traveller  arriving  at  the  town  of  Doncaster  one 
evening  late  in  the  autumn,  alighted  at  the  Old  Angel 
Inn.  "  The  Old  Angel !"  said  he  to  his  fellow-travel- 
ler; "you  see  that  even  angels  on  earth  grow  old." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  63 

NATURE. 

All  things  are  artificial,  for  nature  is  the  art  of 
God. — /Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

IDLENESS. 

Too  much  idleness,  I  have  observed,  fills  up  a 
man's  time  much  more  completely,  and  leaves  him 
less  his  own  master,  than  any  sort  of  employment 
whatsoever. — Burke. 

WIT    AND    THE    GREATER    PASSIONS. 

It  must  be  observed  that  all  the  great  passions, 
and  many  other  feelings,  extinguish  the  relish  for 
wit.  Thus  lympha  pudica  Deum  vidit  et  erebuit  would 
be  witty,  were  it  not  bordering  on  the  sublime. 
The  resemblance  between  the  sandal-tree  imparting 
(while  it  falls)  its  aromatic  flavour  to  the  edge  of  the 
axe,  and  the  benevolent  man  rewarding  evil  with 
good,  would  be  witty,  did  it  not  excite  virtuous 
emotions.  There  are  many  mechanical  contrivances 
which  excite  sensations  very  similar  to  wit,  but  the 
attention  is  absorbed  by  their  utility.  Some  o£ 
Merlin's  machines,  which  have  no  utility  at  all, 
are  quite  similar  to  wit.  A  small  model  of  a 
steam-engine,  or  mere  squirt,  is  wit  &  a  child.  A 
man  speculates  upon  the  causes  of  the  first,  or  on 
its  consequences,  and  so  loses  the  feelings  of  wit: 
with  the  latter  he  is  too  familiar  to  be  surprised. 
In  short,  the  essence  of  every  species  of  wit  is 
surprise;  which  vi  termini,  must  be  sudden;  and 

5* 


64  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

the  sensations  which  wit  has  a  tendency  to  excite, 
are  impaired  or  destroyed,  as  often  as  they  are 
mingled  with  much  thought  or  passion. — Sydney 
Smith. 

SCHOOL  LEARNING. 

I  am  sometimes  inclined  to  think  that  pigs  are 
brought  up  upon  a  wiser  system  than  boys  at  a 
grammar-school.  The  pig  is  allowed  to  feed  upon 
any  kind  of  offal,  however  coarse,  on  which  he 
can  thrive,  till  the  time  approaches,  when  pig  is 
to  commence  pork,  or  take  a  degree  as  bacon. — The 
Doctor. 

DIFFERENCE    OF    OPINION. 

I  could  never  divide  myself  from  any  man 
upon  the  difference  of  an  opinion,  or  be  angry 
with  his  judgment  for  not  agreeing  in  that  from 
which  within  a  few  days  I  might  dissent  myself. — 
Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

GREAT    MEN. 

The  true  test  of  a  great  man — that  at  least  which 
must  secure  his  place  among  the  highest  order  of 
great  men — is  his  having  been  in  advance  of  his  age. 
This  it  is  wh&h  decides  whether  or  not  he  has  car- 
ried forward  the  grand  plan  of  human  improvement ; 
has  conformed  his  views  and  adapted  his  conduct  to 
the  existing  circumstances  of  society,  or  changed 
those  so  as  to  better  its  condition ;  has  been  one  of 
the  lights  of  the  world,  or  only  reflected  the  borrowed 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  55 

rays  of  former  luminaries ;  and  sat  in  the  same  shade 
with  the  rest  of  his  generation,  at  the  same  twilight 
or  the  same  dawn. — Brougham. 

t-\- 

THE    PYRAMIDS, 

Doting  with  age,  have  forgotten  the  names  of 
their  founders. — Fuller. 

CONVERSATION    OF    PHILOSOPHERS. 

A  philosopher's  ordinary  language  and  admissions 
in  general  conversations  or  writings,  ad  populum,  are 
as  his  watch  compared  with  his  astronomical  time- 
piece. He  sets  the  former  by  the  town  clock,  not 
because  he  believes  it  right,  but  because  his  neigh- 
bours and  his  cook  go  by  it. — Coleridge. 

PREACHING    DAMNATION. 

"  To  preach  long,  loud,  and  damnation,  is  the  way," 
says  Selden,  "  to  be  cried  up :  we  love  a  man  that 
damns  us,  and  we  run  after  him  again  to  save  us !" 

MODERATION. 

Fuller  beautifully  says  of  moderation,  that  "  it  is 
the  silken  string  running  through  the  pearl  chain  of 
all  virtues." 

WILKIE    AND    THE    MONK   OF    THE    ESCURIAL. 

When  Wilkie  was  in  the  Escurial,  looking  at 
Titian's  famous  picture  of  the  Last  Supper  in  the 
refectory  there,  an  old  Jeronimite  said  to  him,  "I 


56  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

have  sat  daily  in  sight  of  that  picture  for  now  nearly 
threescore  years:  during  that  time  my  companions 
have  dropped  off,  one  after  another,  all  who  were  rny 
seniors,  all  who  were  my  contemporaries,  and  many 
or  most  of  those  who  were  younger  than  myself; 
more  than  one  generation  has  passed  away,  and  there 
the  figures  in  the  picture  have  remained,  unchanged ! 
I  look  at  them  till  I  sometimes  think  that  they  are 
the  realities,  and  we  but  shadows." — The  Doctor. 

MR.    FIEVEE. 

We  must  do  justice  to  Mr.  Fieve'e  when  he  de- 
serves it.  He  evinces,  in  his  preface,  a  lurking  un- 
easiness at  the  apprehension  of  exciting  war  between 
the  two  countries,  from  the  anger  to  which  his  letters 
will  give  birth  in  England.  He  pretends  to  deny 
that  they  will  occasion  a  war ;  but  it  is  very  easy  to 
see  he  is  not  convinced  by  his  own  arguments ;  and 
we  confess  ourselves  extremely  pleased  by  this  amia- 
ble solicitude  at  the  probable  effusion  of  human  blood. 
"We  hope  Mr.  Fieve'e  is  deceived  by  his  philanthropy, 
and  that  no  such  unhappy  consequences  will  ensue, 
as  he  really  believes,  though  he  affects  to  deny  them. 
We  dare  say  the  dignity  of  England  will  be  satisfied, 
if  the  publication  in  question  is  disowned  by  the 
French  government,  or,  at  most,  if  the  author  is 
given  up.  At  all  events,  we  have  no  scruple  to  say, 
that  to  sacrifice  twenty  thousand  lives,  and  a  hun- 
dred millions  of  money,  to  resent  Mr.  FieveVs  book, 
would  be  an  unjustifiable  waste  of  blood  and  treas- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  57 

ure ;  and  that  to  take  him  off  privately  by  assassina- 
tion would  be  an  undertaking  hardly  compatible  with 
the  dignity  of  a  great  empire. 

Mr.  Fieve'e  alleges  against  the  English,  that  they 
have  great  pleasure  in  contemplating  the  spectacle  of 
men  deprived  of  their  reason ;  and  indeed  we  must 
have  the  candour  to  allow,  that  the  hospitality  which 
Mr.  Fieve'e  experienced  seems  to  afford  pretext  for 
this  assertion. — Sydney  Smith. 

PRIVATE    FAMILY    HISTORY. 

The  history  of  any  private  family,  however  hum- 
ble, could  it  be  fully  related  for  five  or  six  genera- 
tions, would  illustrate  the  state  and  progress  of  society 
better  than  could  be  done  by  the  most  elaborate  dis- 
sertation.— The  Doctor. 

A  POPULAR  FALLACY. 

When  the  world  has  once  got  hold  of  a  He,  it 
is  astonishing  how  hard  it  is  to  get  it  out  of  the 
world.  You  beat  it  about  the  head,  till  it  seems 
to  have  given  up  the  ghost,  and  lo  I  the  next  day 
it  is  as  healthy  as  ever. — Bulwer. 

ENGLISHMEN. 

An  Englishman  is  essentially,  not  only  a  cook- 
ing and  a  tailoring  animal,  according  to  the 
definition  of  man  given  by  some  philosophers,  but 
in  his  special  Anglican  capacity,  he  is  pre-eminently 
a  grumbling  animal.  We  go  further :  we  believe 


58  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

that  tliis  grumbling  habit,  and  the  feeling  from 
which  it  proceeds,  are  among  the  active  causes  of 
his  progressive  improvement.  Discontented  with 
his  condition  he  seeks  to  improve  it.  Finding  fault 
with  the  constitution  of  his  country,  he  vigorously 
but  wisely  reforms  it.  He  quarrels  with  his  house, 
and  he  builds  it  in  a  better  site  and  on  a  more 
commodious  scale.  The  excellent  Count  Strzelecki 
observed,  in  his  evidence  before  the  Lords,  "the 
Irish  soon  improve  in  the  colonies;  they  become 
quite  as  grumbling  as  the  English  themselves." 
This  observation  displays  a  true  knowledge  of  the 
national  character.  We  love  to  believe  that  we  are 
on  the  verge  of  ruin ;  and  we  readily  attribute  our 
supposed  ruin  to  the  legislature,  or  to  the  govern- 
ment of  the  day. — Edinburgh  Review. 

A   GOOD   STOMACH. 

What  an  excellent  thing  did  God  bestow  on  man, 
when  He  did  give  him  a  good  stomach. — Beaumont 
and  Fletcher. 

LOVERS   OF   LITERATURE. 

Your  true  lover  of  literature  is  never  fastidious. 
I  do  not  mean  the  helluo  Ubrorum,  the  swinish  feeder, 
who  thinks  that  every  name  which  is  to  be  found  in 
a  title-page,  or  on  a  tombstone,  ought  to  be  rescued 
from  oblivion;  nor  those  first  cousins  of  the  moth, 
who  labour  under  a  bulimy  for  black-letter,  and  be- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  59 

lieve  every  thing  to  be  excellent  which  was  written 
in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth.  I  mean  the  man  of  robust 
and  healthy  intellect,  who  gathers  the  harvest  of 
literature  into  his  barns,  thrashes  the  straw,  winnows 
the  grain,  grinds  it  at  his  own  mill,  bakes  it  in  his 
own  oven,  and  then  eats  the  true  bread  of  knowledge. 
If  he  bake  his  loaf  upon  a  cabbage-lea^  and  eat 
onions  with  his  bread  and  cheese,  let  who  will  find 
fault  with  him  for  his  taste — not  I ! — The  Doctor. 

VIRTUE    IN   A   SHORT    PERSON. 

His  soul  had  but  a  short  diocese  to  visit,  and 
therefore  might  the  better  attend  the  effectual  in- 
forming thereof. — Fuller. 

ENJOYMENT   OF   LIFE. 

Ennui,  wretchedness,  melancholy,  groans,  and 
sighs,  are  the  offering  which  these  unhappy  Metho- 
dists make  to  a  Deity,  who  has  covered  the  earth 
with  gay  colours,  and  scented  it  with  rich  perfumes ; 
and  shown  us,  by  the  plan  and  order  of  his  works, 
that  he  has  given  to  man  something  better  than  a 
bare  existence,  and  scattered  over  his  creation  a  thou- 
sand superfluous  joys,  which  are  totally  unnecessary 
to  the  mere  support  of  life. — Sydney  Smith. 

CLASSIFICATION   OF    NOVELS. 

Novels  may  be  arranged  according  to  the  botani- 
cal system  of  Linnaeus.  Monandria  Monogynia  is  the 


60  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

usual  class,  most  novels  having  one  hero  and  one 
heroine.  Sir  Charles  Grandison  belongs  to  the  Mo- 
nandria  Digynia.  Those  in  which  the  families  of  the 
two  lovers  are  at  variance,  may  be  called  Dioecious. 
The  Cryptogamia  are  very  numerous,  so  are  the  Pol- 
ygamia.  Where  the  lady  is  in  doubt  which  of  her 
lovers  to  choose,  the  tale  is  to  be  classed  under  the 
Icosandria.  Where  the  party  hesitates  between  love 
and  duty,  or  avarice  and  ambition,  Didynamia. 
Many  are  poisonous,  few  of  any  use,  and  far  the 
greater  number  of  annuals. — Souihey's  Omnia. 

PAMPHLETS    AND   BALLADS. 

Though  some  may  make  light  of  libels,*  yet  you 
may  see  by  them  how  the  wind  sets ;  as  take  a  straw, 
and  throw  it  up  into  the  air,  you  shall  see  by  that 
which  way  the  wind  is,  which  you  shall  not  do  by 
casting  up  a  stone;  more  solid  things  do  not  show 
the  complexion  of  the  times  so  well  as  ballads  and 
libels.— Selderfs  Table- Talk. 


ANCESTRY. 


"  The  man  who  has  not  any  thing  to  boast  of  but 
his  illustrious  ancestors,"  says  Sir  Thomas  Overbury, 
"  is  like  a  potato — the  only  good  belonging  to  him  is 
under  ground." 

The  duke  of  Somerset,  surnamed  the  Proud 
Duke,  and  of  whom  it  is  related  that  he  rode  all 

*  Pamphlets. 
3*- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  61 

through  Europe,  without  ever  leaning  back  in  his 
carriage,  used  to  say,  "  that  he  pitied  Adam,  because 
he  had  no  ancestors." 

ELEGANCE 

Is  something  more  than  ease ;  it  is  more  than  a 
freedom  from  awkwardnesss  or  restraint.  It  implies, 
I  conceive,  a  precision,  a  polish,  a  sparkling,  spirited 
yet  delicate. — Hazlitt. 

RICHARD    L.    EDGEWORTH. 

The  "  Essay  upon  Bulls"  is  written  much  with  the 
same  mind,  and  in  the  same  manner,  as  a  schoolboy 
takes  a  walk :  he  moves  on  the  straight  road  for  ten 
yards,  with  surprising  perseverance ;  then  sets  out 
after  a  butterfly,  looks  for  a  bird's  nest,  and  jumps 
backward  and  forward  over  a  ditch.  In  the  same 
manner,  this  nimble  and  digressive  gentleman  is  away 
after  every  object  which  crosses  his  mind.  If  you 
leave  him  at  the  end  of  a  comma,  in  a  steady  pursuit 
of  his  subject,  you  are  sure  to  find  him,  before  the 
next  full  stop,  a  hundred  yards  to  the  right  or  left, 
frisking,  capering,  and  grinning,  in  a  high  paroxysm 
of  merriment  and  agility.  Mr.  Edgeworth  seems  to 
possess  the  sentiments  of  an  accomplished  gentleman, 
the  information  of  a  scholar,  and  the  vivacity  of  a 
first-rate  harlequin.  He  is  fuddled  with  animal  spir- 
its, giddy  with  constitutional  joy :  in  such  a  state,  he 
must  have  written  on  or  burst. — Sydney  Smith. 

6 


62  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK 

VANITY   OF    HUMAN    FAME. 

An  old  woman  in  a  village  of  the  west  of  England 
was  told  one  day  that  the  king  of  Prussia  was  dead, 
such  a  report  having  arrived  when  the  great  Frede- 
rick was  in  the  noonday  of  his  glory.  Old  Mary  lifted 
up  her  great  slow  eyes  at  the  news,  and  fixing  them 
in  the  fullness  of  vacancy  upon  her  informant,  replied, 
"  Is  a !  is  a  1  the  Lord  ha'  mercy !  Well,  well !  the 
king  of  Prussia!  and  who's  he?"  The  "who's  he?" 
of  this  old  woman  might  serve  as  text  for  a  notable 
sermon  upon  ambition.  "Who's  he?"  may  now  be 
asked  of  men  greater  as  soldiers  in  their  day  than 
Frederick  and  Wellington ;  greater  as  discoverers 
than  Sir  Isaac  or  Sir  Humphrey.  Who  built  the 
pyramids  ?  Who  ate  the  first  oyster  ?  Vanitas  vani- 
tatum  I  Omnia  vanitas  1 — The  Doctor. 

FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH   VANITY. 

The  vanity  of  a  Frenchman  consists  (as  I  have 
somewhere  read)  in  belonging  to  so  great  a  country ; 
but  the  vanity  of  an  Englishman  exults  in  the  thought 
that  so  great  a  country  belongs  to  himself.  The  root 
of  all  English  notions,  as  of  all  English  laws,  is  to  be 
found  in  the  sentiment  of  property.  It  is  my  wife 
whom  you  shall  not  insult ;  it  is  my  house  that  you 
shall  not  enter ;  it  is  my  country  that  you  shall  not 
traduce ;  and  by  a  species  of  ultra-mundane  appropri- 
ation, it  is  my  God  whom  you  shall  not  blaspheme ! 
— England  and  the  English. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  63 

POCKETS. 

Of  all  the  inventions  of  tlie  tailor,  (who  is  of  all 
artists  the  most  inventive,)  I  hold  the  pocket  to  be 
the  most  commodious,  and,  saving  the  fig-leaf,  the 
most  indispensable.  Moreover,  nature  herself  shows 
us  the  utility,  the  importance,  nay,  the  indispensabil- 
ity,  or,  to  take  a  hint  from  the  pure  language  of  our 
diplomatists,  the  sinequanonniness  of  pockets.  There 
is  but  one  organ  which  is  common  to  all  animals 
whatsoever:  some  are  without  eyes,  many  without 
noses;  some  have  no  heads,  others  no  tails;  some 
neither  one  nor  the  other ;  some  there  are  who  have 
no  brains,  others  very  pappy  ones ;  some  no  hearts, 
others  very  bad  ones :  but  all  have  a  stomach ;  and 
what  is  the  stomach  but  a  live  inside  pocket  ?  Hath 
not  Yan  Helmont  said  of  it,  "Saccus  vel  vera  est,  ut 
ciborum  olla?" — The  Doctor. 

CHOICE    OF    BOOKS. 

They  unto  whom  we  shall  appear  tedious,  are  in 
no  wise  injured  by  us,  because  it  is  in  their  own 
hands  to  spare  that  labour  which  they  are  not  willing 
to  endure. — Hooker. 

SCHOOLMASTERS. 

A  schoolmaster,  who  likes  his  vocation,  feels  to- 
wards the  boys  who  deserve  his  favour  something  like 
a  thrifty  and  thriving  father  towards  the  children  for 
whom  he  is  scraping  together  wealth;  he  is  con- 


64  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

tented  that  his  humble  and  patient  industry  should 
produce  fruit,  not  for  himself,  but  for  them,  and  looks 
with  pride  to  a  result  in  which  it  is  impossible  for 
him  to  partake,  and  which  in  all  likelihood  he  may 
never  live  to  see. — The  Doctor. 


WIT    AND    JUDGMENT. 


Wit  is  brushwood,  judgment  timber :  the  one 
gives  the  greatest  flame,  the  other  yields  the  dura- 
blest  heat;  and  both  meeting  make  the  best  fire. — 
Sir  Thomas  Overbury. 


CURATES. 


A  curate — there  is  something  which  excites  com- 
passion in  the  very  name  of  a  curate ! ! !  How  any 
man  of  purple,  palaces,  and  preferment,  can  let  him- 
self loose  upon  this  poor  workingman  of  God,  we 
are  at  a  loss  to  conceive, — a  learned  man  in  a  hovel, 
with  sermons  and  saucepans,  lexicons  and  bacon,  He- 
brew books  and  ragged  children ;  good  and  patient ; 
a  comforter  and  a  preacher ;  the  first  and  purest 
pauper  in  the  hamlet,  and  yet  showing,  that,  in  the 
midst  of  his  worldly  misery,  he  has  the  heart  of  a 
gentleman,  the  spirit  of  a  Christian,  and  the  kind- 
ness of  a  pastor. — Sydney  Smith. 


FATE    OF    POETS. 


"I  have  met  with  most  poetry  upon  trunks," 
says  Lord  Byron ;  "  so  that  I  am  apt  to  consider  the 
trunk-maker  as  the  sexton  of  authorship." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  65 

OPINION. 

An  originator  of  an  opinion  precedes  the  time ; 
you  cannot  both  precede  and  reflect  it.  What  ten 
years  ago  was  philosophy,  is  now  opinion. — JBulwer. 

CONVERSATION. 

The  art  of  quiet,  entertaining,  easy  conversation, 
is,  I  think,  chiefly  known  in  England.  In  Scotland 
we  are  pedantic  and  wrangle,  or  we  run  away  with 
the  harrows  on  some  topic  we  chance  to  be  discursive 
upon.  In  Ireland,  they  have  too  much  vivacity,  and 
are  too  desirous  to  make  a  show  to  preserve  the 
golden  mean.  They  are  the  Gascons  of  Britain. 
For  forming  a  good  converser,  good  taste,  and  exten- 
sive information  and  accomplishment,  are  the  prin- 
cipal requisites ;  to  which  must  be  added  an  easy  and 
elegant  delivery,  and  a  well-toned  voice. — /Sir  Walter 
Scott. 

WISDOM    OF    MIRTH. 

I  have  observed,  that  in  comedy,  the  best  actor 
plays  the  part  of  the  droll,  while  some  scrub  rogue  is 
made  the  hero,  or  fine  gentleman.  So,  in  this  farce 
of  life,  wise  men  pass  their  tune  in  mirth,  whilst  fools 
only  are  serious. — Bolingbroke. 

STRAWBERRY   HILL. 

One  of  Walpole's  most  favourite  pursuits,  was  the 
building  and  decoration  of  his  gothic  villa  of  Straw- 
berry Hill.  It  is  situated  at  the  end  of  the  village  of 

6* 


66 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 


Twickenham,  towards  Teddington,  on  a  slope,  which 
gives  it  a  fine  view  of  a  reach  of  the  Thames,  and  the 
opposite  wooded  hill  of  Richmond  Park.  He  bought 
it,  in  1747,  of  Mrs.  Chenevix,  the  proprietress  of  a 
celebrated  toy-shop.  He  thus  describes  it,  in  a  letter 
of  that  year  to  Mr.  Con  way :  "  You  perceive,  by  my 
date,  that  I  have  got  into  a  new  camp,  and  have  left 
my  tub  at  Windsor.  It  is  a  little  plaything  house 
that  I  got  out  of  Mrs.  Chenevix's  shop,  and  is  the 
prettiest  bauble  you  ever  saw.  It  is  set  in  enamelled 
meadows  with  fillagree  hedges : 

'  A  small  Euphrates  through  the  piece  is  roll'd, 
And  little  fishes  wave  their  wings  of  gold.' 

"  Two  delightful  roads,  that  you  would  call  dusty, 
supply  me  continually  with  coaches  and  chaises; 
barges,  as  solemn  as  barons  of  the  Exchequer,  move 
under  my  window ;  Richmond  Hill  and  Ham  "Walks 
bound  my  prospects,  but,  thank  God !  the  Thames  is 
between  me  and  the  duchess  of  Queensbury.  Dow- 
agers, as  plenty  as  flounders,  inhabit  all  around ;  and 
Pope's  ghost  is  just  now  skimming  under  my  window 
by  most  poetical  moonlight." 

After  his  villa  had  been  built,  he  commenced  to 
collect  antiquities  and  curiosities  of  all  kinds,  to- 
gether with  many  valuable  paintings  and  engravings, 
which  he  seems  to  have  spared  no  expense  in  buying 
and  bringing  together.  Here,  also,  he  had  set  up  a 
small  printing-press,  with  which  he  printed  many 
of  his  own  works,  and  those  of  his  friends.  Gray's 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  67 

poems  were  printed  here,  with  engravings  by  Mr. 
Richard  Bentlj,  a  friend  of  both  authors.  For  de- 
fraying these  expenses,  he  drew  upon  his  income, 
which  amounted  to  about  two  thousand  pounds  a 
year,  chiefly  arising  from  the  various  sinecures  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  his  father,  Sir  Robert  Walpole. 

"This  fine  collection,  upon  which  he  had  employed 
so  much  pains,  and  expended  such  large  sums  of 
money,  is  now  scattered  to  the  winds — dispersed  at  a 
public  sale.  Surely,  it  is  enough 

'  To  rouse  the  dead  man  into  rage, 
And  warm  with  red  resentment  the  wan  cheek." 

BTTLLS. 

A  bull  is  exactly  the  counterpart  of  a  witticism : 
for  as  wit  discovers  real  relations  that  are  not  ap- 
parent, bulls  admit  apparent  relations  that  are  not  real. 
The  pleasure  arising  from  bulls,  proceeds  from  our 
surprise  at  suddenly  discovering  two  things  to  be  dis- 
similar in  which  a  resemblance  might  have  been  sus- 
pected. The  same  doctrine  will  apply  to  wit  and 
bulls  in  action.  Practical  wit  discovers  connection  or 
relation  between  actions,  in  which  duller  under- 
standings discover  none ;  and  practical  bulls  originate 
from  an  apparent  relation  between  two  actions  which 
more  correct  understandings  immediately  perceive  to 
have  none  at  all.  In  the  late  rebellion  in  Ireland, 
the  rebels,  who  had  conceived  a  high  degree  of  indig- 
nation against  some  great  banker,  passed  a  resolution 


68  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

that  they  would  burn  his  notes; — which'  they  ac- 
cordingly did,  with  great  assiduity;  forgetting,  that 
in  burning  his  notes,  they  were  destroying  his  debts, 
and  that  for  every  note  which  went  into  the  flames, 
a  correspondent  value  went  into  the  banker's  pocket. 
A  gentleman  in  speaking  of  a  nobleman's  wife,  of 
great  rank  and  fortune,  lamented  very  much  that  she 
had  no  children.  A  medical  gentleman  who  was 
present  observed,  that  to  have  no  children  was  a 
great  misfortune,  but  he  thought  he  had  remarked  it 
was  hereditary  in  some  families.  Take  any  instance 
of  this  branch  of  the  ridiculous,  and  you  will  always 
find  an  apparent  relation  of  ideas  leading  to  a  com- 
plete inconsistency.  There  are  some  bulls  so  ex- 
tremely fallacious,  that  any  man  may  imagine  him- 
self to  have  been  betrayed  into  them ;  but  these  are 
rare:  and,  in  general,  it  is  a  poor  contemptible  spe- 
cies of  amusement;  a  delight  in  which  evinces  a 
very  bad  taste  in  wit. — Sydney  Smith. 

PREACHING   AND   PRACTICE. 

Dr.  Channing  had  a  brother,  a  physician,  and  at 
one  time  they  both  lived  in  Boston.  One  day,  a 
countryman  in  search  of  a  divine^  knocked  at  the 
doctor 's  door,  when  the  following  dialogue  ensued : — 

"Does  Mr.  Channing  live  here  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Can  I  see  him?" 

"I  am  he." 

"Who— you?" 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  69 

"Yes,  sir." 

"You  must  have  altered  considerably  since  I 
heard  you  preach!" 

"Oh,  I  see  your  mistake  now.    It's  my  brother 
who  preaches.     I  practise.1'1 
i 

LOVE    OF    MONET. 

"Mirabeau,"  said  Eivarol,  "is  capable  of  any 
thing  for  money ;  even  a  good  action." 

MARK   OF    GENIUS. 

Many  persons  think  it  a  mark  of  genius  to  be 
eccentric,  and  to  depart  from  the  common  road,  or  to 
do  things  in  an  uncommon  way,  like  the  lady  in 
Young's  works,  who  drank  her  tea  by  stratagem ;  or 
like  Hudibras,  who  could  wisely  tell — 

"  what  hour  o'  the  day 


The  clock  does  strike,  by  algebra." — Johnson. 
INDESTRUCTIBILITY   OF   ENJOYMENT. 

Mankind  are  always  happier  for  having  been  hap- 
py ;  so  that  if  you  make  them  happy  now,  you  make 
them  happy  twenty  years  hence,  by  the  memory 
of  it.  A  childhood  passed  with  a  due  mixture  of 
rational  indulgence,  under  fond  and  wise  parents, 
diffuses  over  the  whole  of  life  a  feeling  of  calm  pleas- 
ure ;  and,  in  extreme  old  age,  is  the  very  last  remem- 
brance which  time  can  erase  from  the  mind  of  man. 
No  enjoyment,  however  inconsiderable,  is  confined  to 
the  present  moment.  A  man  is  the  happier  for  life, 


70  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

from  having  made  once  an  agreeable  tour,  or  lived 
for  any  length  of  time  with  pleasant  people,  or  en- 
joyed any  considerable  interval  of  innocent  pleasure ; 
which  contributes  to  render  old  men  so  inattentive 
to  the  scenes  before  them,  and  carries  them  back  to  a 
world  that  is  past,  and  to  scenes  never  to  be  renewed 
again. — Sydney  Smith. 


HANDWRITING. 


Hood  gives  some  good  advice  upon  this  subject, 
which  he  submits  to  the  particular  attention  of  "  poets 
and  prosers,  who  aspire  to  write  in  miscellanies ;  and, 
above  all,  the  palpitating  untried,  who  meditate  the 
offer  of  their  maiden  essays  to  established  periodi- 
cals." He  advises  these  writers,  to  "take  care  to 
cultivate  a  good,  plain,  bold,  round  text ;  to  set  up 
Tomkins  as  well  as  Pope  or  Dryden  for  a  model,  and 
to  have  an  eye  to  their  pot-hooks. 

"  Of  all  things,  therefore,  be  legible ;  and  to  that 
end,  practise  in  penmanship.  If  you  have  never 
learned,  take  six  lessons  of  Mr.  Carstairs.  Be  sure  to 
buy  the  best  paper,  the  best  ink,  the  best  pens,  and 
then  sit  down  and  do  the  best  you  can ;  as  the  school- 
boys do — put  out  your  tongue,  and  take  pains.  So 
ye  shall  haply  escape  the  rash  rejection  of  a  jaded 
editor;  so,  having  got  in  your  hand,  it  is  possible 
that  your  head  may  follow ;  and  so,  last  not  least,  ye 
may  fortunately  avert  those  awful  mistakes  of  the 
press,  which  sometimes  ruin  a  poet's  sublimest  effu- 
sion, by  pantomimically  transforming  his  '  roses'  into 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  71 

'  noses ;'  his  '  angels'  into  '  angles ;'  and  all  his  '  hap- 
piness' into  'pappiness.' " 

PATRIOTISM. 

"  Patriots,"  said  Sir  Eobert  Walpole,  "  are  easily 
raised ;  I  have  myself,  made  many  a  one.  'Tis  but 
to  refuse  an  unreasonable  demand,  and  up  springs  a 
patriot." 

This  is  in  the  spirit  of  Tom  Brown's  saying :  "A 
patriot  is  generally  made  by  a  pique  at  court." 

PUNCH. 

That  Punch  made  his  appearance  in  the  puppet- 
show  of  the  Deluge,  most  persons  know ;  his  excla- 
mation of  "Hazy  weather,  master  Noahl"  having 
been  preserved  by  tradition. — The  Doctor. 

CLASS   OF    CONVERSATIONALISTS. 

Swift  describes  a  class  of  tiresome  conversa- 
tionalists, who  should  be  driven  from  all  pleasant 
society:  these  are  "people  who  think  they  suffi- 
ciently acquit  themselves,  and  entertain  their  com- 
pany, with  relating  facts  of  no  consequence,  nor  at 
all  out  of  the  road  of  such  common  incidents  as  hap- 
pen every  day."  He  then  proceeds,  with  some  illiber- 
ality:  "and  this  I  have  observed  more  frequently 
among  the  Scots  than  any  other  nation,  who  are  very 
careful  not  to  omit  the  minutest  circumstances  of 
time  or  place ;  which  kind  of  discourse,  if  it  were  not 


72  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

a  little  relieved  by  the  uncouth  terms  and  phrases,  as 
well  as  accent  and  gesture,  peculiar  to  that  country, 
would  be  hardly  tolerable." 


PUNS. 


I  have  mentioned  puns.  They  are,  I  believe, 
what  I  have  denominated  them — the  wit  of  words. 
They  are  exactly  the  same  to  words  that  wit  is  to 
ideas,  and  consist  in  the  sudden  discovery  of  relations 
in  language.  A  pun,  to  be  perfection  in  its  kind, 
should  contain  two  distinct  meanings ;  the  one,  com- 
mon and  obvious;  the  other,  more  remote;  and  in 
the  notice  which  the  mind  takes  of  the  relation  be- 
tween these  two  sets  of  words,  and  in  the  surprise 
which  that  relation  excites,  the  pleasure  of  a  pun 
consists.  Miss  Hamilton,  in  her  book  on  Education, 
mentions  the  instance  of  a  boy  so  very  neglectful, 
that  he  never  could  be  brought  to  read  the  word  pa- 
triarchs; but  whenever  he  met  with  it,  he  pronounced 
it  partridges.  A  friend  of  the  writer,  observed  to  her, 
that  it  could  hardly  be  considered  a  mere  piece  of 
negligence,  for  it  appeared  to  him,  that  the  boy  in 
calling  them  partridges,  was  making  game  of  the  pa- 
triarchs. Now,  here  are  two  distinct  meanings  con- 
tained in  the  same  phrase :  for  to  make  game  of  the 
patriarchs  is  to  laugh  at  them ;  or  to  make  game  of 
them,  is,  by  a  very  extravagant  and  laughable  sort 
of  ignorance  of  words,  to  rank  them  among  pheas- 
ants, partridges,  and  other  such  delicacies,  which  the 
law  takes  under  its  protection,  and  calls  game ;  and 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  73 

the  whole  pleasure  derived  from  this  pun,  consists  in 
the  sudden  discovery,  that  two  such  different  mean- 
ings are  referable  to  one  form  of  expression.  I  have 
very  little  to  say  about  puns ;  they  are  in  very  bad 
repute,  and  so  they  ought  to  be.  The  wit  of  lan- 
guage is  so  miserably  inferior  to  the  wit  of  ideas,  that 
it  is  very  deservedly  driven  out  of  good  company. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  a  pun  makes  its  appearance, 
which  seems,  for  a  moment,  to  redeem  its  species;  but 
we  must  not  be  deceived  by  them ;  it  is  a  radically 
bad  race  of  wit.  By  unremitting  persecution,  it  has 
been  at  last  got  under,  and  driven  into  cloisters — 
from  whence  it  must  never  again  be  suffered  to 
emerge  into  the  light  of  the  world. — Sydney  Smith. 

TRUE    COURTESY. 

Nothing  is  a  courtesy,  unless  it  be  meant  for  us, 
and  that  friendly  and  lovingly.  We  owe  no  thanks 
to  rivers,  that  they  carry  our  boats ;  or  winds,  that 
they  be  favouring,  and  fill  our  sails ;  or  meats,  that 
they  be  nourishing ;  for  these  are  what  they  are,  ne- 
cessarily. Horses  carry  us ;  trees  shade  us ;  but  they 
know  it  not. — Ben  Jbnson. 

ROMAN    BANQUETS. 

The  Roman  banquets  were  much  more  remark- 
able for  profusion  and  costliness  than  for  taste.  The 
only  merits  of  a  dish  composed  of  the  brains  of  500 
peacocks,  or  the  tongues  of  500  nightingales,  must 
have  been  its  dearness  ;  and  if  a  mode  of  swallowing 

7 


71  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

most  money  in  a  given  time  be  the  desideratum, 
commend  us  to  Cleopatra's  decoction  of  diamonds, 
though  even  this  was  fairly  exceeded  in  originality 
and  neatness  of  conception  by  the  English  sailor, 
who  placed  a  ten-pound  note  between  two  slices  of 
bread  and  butter,  and  made  his  black-eyed  Susan  eat 
it  as  a  sandwich.  Captain  Morris,  in  one  of  his 
songs,  has  set  the  proper  value  on  such  luxuries : — 

"  Old  Lucullus,  they  say, 

Forty  cooks  had  each  day, 
And  Vitellius's  meals  cost  a  million  ; 

But  I  like  what  is  good, 

When  or  where  be  my  food, 
In  a  chop-house  or  royal  pavilion. 

"  At  all  feasts,  if  enough, 

I  most  heartily  stuff, 
And  a  song  at  my  heart  alike  rushes, 

Though  I've  not  fed  my  lungs, 

Upon  nightingales'  tongues, 
Nor  the  brains  of  gold-finches  and  thrushes." 

Quarterly  Review. 

LIVING    IN    THE    WORLD. 

.  Living  always  in  the  world  makes  one  as  unfit  for 
living  out  of  it,  as  always  living  out  of  it  does  for 
living  in  it. —  Walpole. 

SPINNING    VIRTUE. 

A  young  preacher,  who  chose  to  enlarge  to  a 
country  congregation  on  the  beauty  of  virtue,  was 
surprised  to  be  informed  by  an  old  woman,  who  ex 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  75 

pressed  herself  highly  pleased  with  his  sermon,  that 
her  daughter  was  the  most  virtuous  woman  in  the 
.  parish,  "  for  that  week  she  had  spun  sax  spyndles  of 
yarn."— Sir  Walter  /Scott. 

UNTHINKING    GOOD   MAN'S    SOUL. 

0  what  a  beautiful  concordia  discordantium  is  an 
unthinking  good  man's  soul ! — Coleridge. 

CLASSICAL    GLORY. 

Dr.  George,  the  celebrated  Grecian,  upon  hearing 
the  praises  of  the  great  king  of  Prussia,  entertained 
considerable  doubts  whether  the  king,  with  all  his 
victories,  knew  how  to  conjugate  a  Greek  verb  in  f*». 
— Sydney  Smith. 

PLEASING    THE    PUBLIC. 

He  who  would  please  posterity  must  please  him- 
self by  choosing  his  own  course.  There  are  only 
two  classes  of  writers  who  dare  do  this,  the  best  and 
the  worst ;  for  this  is  one  of  the  many  cases  in  which 
extremes  meet.  The  mediocres,  in  every  grade,  aim 
at  pleasing  the  public,  and  conform  themselves  to  the 
fashion  of  their  age,  whatever  it  may  be. — The 
Doctor. 

GIVING   DINNERS. 

Bulwer  advises  persons  never  to  give  dinners. 
"Do  not  go  on  that  foolish  plan  which  has  been  laid 
down  by  persons  who  pretend  to  know  life,  as  a 


76  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

means  of  popularity — of  giving  dinners  better  than 
other  people.  Unless  you  are  a  very  rich  man,  or  a 
very  great  man,  no  folly  is  equal  to  that  of  thinking 
that  you  soften  the  hearts  of  your  friends  by  soups 
d  la  bisque,  and  Yermuth  wine  at  a  guinea  a  bottle ! 
They  will  go  away,  saying :  '  What  right  has  that 
fellow  to  give  a  better  dinner  than  we  do  ?  What  a 
horrid  taste  I  what  ridiculous  presumption !' " 

MATHEWS'    DECEPTIVE    POWERS. 

A  true  tale  is  told  of  the  late  Charles  Mathews, 
that,  personating  an  eccentric  old  gentleman,  a  family 
friend,  he  drank  tea  with  his  mother  without  her 
finding  out  the  cheat. 

CHARADES. 

Sydney  Smith  says  of  them,  that  if  they  are 
made  at  all,  they  should  be  made  without  benefit 
of  clergy,  the  offender  should  be  instantly  hurried 
off  to  execution,  and  be  cut  off  in  the  middle  of 
his  dullness,  without  being  allowed  to  explain  to 
the  executioner,  why  his  first  is  like  his  second,  or 
what  is  the  resemblance  between  his  fourth  and  his 
ninth. 

APPLICABLE  TO  IDLERS. 

A  most  curious  instance  of  a  change  of  instinct 
is  mentioned  by  Darwin.  The  Bees  carried  over 
to  Barbadoes  and  the  Western  Isles,  ceased  to  lay 
up  any  honey  after  the  first  year ;  as  they  found  it 
not  useful  to  them.  They  found  the  weather  so 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  77 

fine,  and  materials  for  making  honey  so  plentiful, 
that  they  quitted  their  grave,  prudent,  and  mer- 
cantile character,  became  exceedingly  profligate  and 
debauched,  eat  up  their  capital,  resolved  to  work 
no  more,  and  amused  themselves  by  flying  about 
the  sugar-houses,  and  stinging  the  blacks. — Sydney  Smith. 

POPE  AND  SWIFT. 

Swift  once  said  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  friends, 
that  he  hated  human  nature,  but  all  his  love 
was  towards  individuals:  "for  instance,  I  hate  the 
tribe  of  lawyers,  but  I  love  Counsellor  such-a-one, 
and  Judge  such-a-one.  But  principally  I  hate  and 
detest  that  animal,  man,  although  I  love  Peter, 
John,  Thomas,  and  so  forth. 

Pope,  on  the  contrary,  said  his  love  was  for 
human  nature,  and  his  hatred  against  particular 
persons. 

Perhaps  this  little  thing  illustrates  the  characters 
of  the  two  authors. 

PLEASURES  OP  A  BOOKWORM. 

Southey  expatiates,  with  the  relish  of  a  biblio- 
maniac, upon  the  delights  on  opening  a  box  of 
books : — 

"  Talk  of  the  happiness  of  getting  a  great  prize 
in  the  lottery!  What  is  that  to  the  opening  of  a 
box  of  books  ?  The  joy  upon  lifting  up  the  cover 
must  be  something  like  what  we  shall  feel  when 
Peter  the  Porter  opens  the  door  up  stairs,  and 

7* 


78  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

says,  'Please  to  walk  in,  sir.'  That  I  sliall  never 
be  paid  for  my  labour  according  to  the  current 
value  of  time  and  labour,  is  tolerably  certain;  but 
if  any  one  should  offer  me  £10,000  to  forego  that 
labour,  I  should  bid  him  and  his  money  go  to  the 
devil,  for  twice  the  sum  could  not  purchase  me 
half  the  enjoyment." 

FUGITIVE    VERSES. 

It  is  on  such  scraps  that  witlings  feed;  and  it 
is  hard  that  the  world  should  judge  of  our  house- 
keeping from  what  we  fling  to  the  dogs. — Pope  to 
Swift. 

DIRTY  HANDS. 

Charles  Lamb  once  said  to  a  brother  whist- 
player,  Martin  Burney,  whose  hands  were  none  of 
the  cleanest,  "Martin,  if  dirt  was  trumps  what  a 
hand  you'd  have." 

MONTAIGNE'S  PLAGIARISMS. 

Old  Montaigne  somewhere  in  his  writings  informs 
us  of  an  ingenious  plan  of  his,  of  transferring  whole 
sentences  from  ancient  authors,  without  acknowledg- 
ment, that  the  critics  might  blunder,  by  giving  na- 
zardes  to  Seneca  and  Plutarch,  while  they  imagined 
they  tweaked  his  nose. — Disraeli. 

SLEEPING    IN    CHURCH. 

Query,  (demands  Swift,)  whether  churches  are 
not  dormitories  of  the  living  as  well  as  the  dead  ? 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  79 

ROUSSEAU   AND    MADAME    D'EPINAY.  » 

Their  friendship  so  formed,  proceeded  to  a  great 
degree  of  intimacy.  Madame  d'Epinay  admired  his 
genius,  and  provided  him  with  hats  and  coats ;  and, 
at  last,  was  so  far  deluded  by  his  declamations  about 
the  country,  as  to  fit  him  up  a  little  hermit  cottage, 
where  there  were  a  great  many  birds,  and  a  great 
many  plants  and  flowers — and  where  Rousseau  was, 
as  might  have  heen  expected,  supremely  miserable. 
His  friends  from  Paris  did  not  come  to  see  him.  The 
postman,  the  butcher,  and  the  baker,  hate  romantic 
scenery ;  duchesses  and  marchionesses  were  no  longer 
found  to  scramble  for  him.  Among  the  real  in- 
habitants of  the  country,  the  reputation  of  reading 
and  thinking  is  fatal  to  character ;  and  Jean  Jacques 
cursed  his  own  successful  eloquence  which  had  sent 
him  from  the  suppers  and  flattery  of  Paris  to  smell  to 
daffodils,  watch  sparrows,  or  project  idle  saliva  into 
the  passing  stream. — Sydney  Smith. 

COLERIDGE   AND    THE    JEWS. 

I  have  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  Jews  in  the 
course  of  my  life,  although  I  never  borrowed  any 
money  of  them.  The  other  day  I  was  what  you  call 
floored  by  a  Jew.  He  passed  me  several  times,  cry- 
ing for  old  clothes  in  a  most  nasal  and  extraordinary 
tone  I  ever  heard.  At  last,  I  was  so  provoked  that 
I  said  to  him:  "Pray,  why  can't  you  say  'old 
clothes'  in  a  plain  way,  as  I  do  now?"  The  Jew 
stopped,  and  looking  very  gravely  at  me  said,  in  a 


80  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

cle«fr  and  even  fine  accent,  "  Sir,  I  can  say  '  old 
clothes'  as  well  as  you  can ;  but  if  you  had  to  say 
so  ten  times  a  minute,  for  an  hour  together,  you 
would  say  logh  do,1  as  I  do  now ;"  and  so  he  marched 
off.  I  was  so  confounded  with  the  justice  of  his  re- 
tort, that  I  followed  and  gave  him  a  shilling,  the  only 
one  I  had. 

Once  I  sat  in  a  coach  opposite  a  Jew ;  a  symbol  of 
old  clothes-bags;  an  Isaiah  of  Holy  well-street.  He 
would  close  the  window ;  I  opened  it.  He  closed  it 
again ;  upon  which,  in  a  very  solemn  tone,  I  said  to 
him :  "  Son  of  Abraham !  thou  smellest ;  son  of 
Isaac !  thou  art  offensive ;  son  of  Jacob !  thou  stink- 
est  foully.  See  the  man  in  the  moon  !  he  is  holding 
his  nose  at  that  distance ;  dost  thou  think  that  I, 
sitting  here,  can  endure  it  any  longer?"  My  Jew 
was  astounded,  opened  the  window  forthwith  himself, 
and  said,  "  he  was  sorry  he  did  not  know  before,  I 
was  so  great  a  gentleman." — Coleridge's  Table-Talk, 

A    LOVE    OT   LITERATURE. 

Were  I  to  pray  for  a  taste  which  should  stand  me 
in  stead  under  every  variety  of  circumstances,  and  be 
a  source  of  happiness  and  cheerfulness  to  me  during 
life,  and  a  shield  against  its  ills,  however  things  might 
go  amiss,  and  the  world  frown  upon  me,  it  would  be 
a  taste  for  reading.  Give  a  man  this  taste,  and  the 
means  of  gratifying  it,  and  you  can  hardly  fail  of 
making  him  a  happy  man ;  unless,  indeed,  you  put 
into  his  hand  a  most  perverse  selection  of  books. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  81 

You  place  him  in  contact  with  the  best  society  In 
every  period  of  history, — with  the  wisest,  the  wittiest, 
the  tenderest,  the  bravest,  and  the  purest  characters 
who  have  adorned  humanity.  You  make  him  a 
denizen  of  all  nations,  a  contemporary  of  all  ages. 
The  world  has  been  created  for  him. — $ir  John  Her- 
schel. 

CHARITY   OF    A    MISEK-. 

An  illiterate  person,  wlio  always  volunteered  to 
"go  round  with,  the  hat,"  but  was  suspected  of 
sparing  his  own  pocket,  overhearing  once  a  hint  to 
that  effect,  replied :  "  Other  gentlemen  puts  down 
what  they  thinks  proper,  and  so  do  I.  Charity's  a 
private  concern,  and  what  I  give  is  nothing  to  nobody." 
• — Hood. 


GOOD    ACTIONS. 


The  greatest  pleasure  I  know,  is  to  do  a  good  ac- 
tion by  stealth,  and  to  have  it  found  out  by  accident. 
— Charles  Lamb. 


RETIRING    TO    THE    COUNTRY. 


Yery  few  men  wlio  have  gratified,  and  are  grati- 
fying their  vanity  in  a  great  metropolis,  are  qualified 
to  quit  it.  Few  have  the  plain  sense  to  perceive  that 
they  must  soon  inevitably  be  forgotten — or  the  forti- 
tude to  bear  it  when  they  are.  They  represent  to 
themselves  imaginary  scenes  of  deploring  friends  and 


82  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

dispirited  companies — but  the  ocean  might  as  well 
regret  the  drops  exhaled  by  the  sunbeams.  Life  goes 
on ;  and  whether  the  absent  have  retired  into  a  cot- 
tage or  a  grave,  is  much  the  same  thing.  In  London 
as  in  law,  de  non  apparentibits,  et  non  existentibus 
eadem  est  ratio. — Sydney  Smith. 

SELFISHNESS. 

There  are  persons  who  have  so  far  outgrown 
their  catechism,  as  to  believe  that  their  only  duty  is 
to  themselves. — The  Doctor. 

LORD   NORTH. 

Lord  North's  wit  appears  to  have  been  of  a 
kind  peculiarly  characteristic  and  eminently  natural ; 
playing  easily  and  without  the  least  effort;  per- 
fectly suited  to  his  placid  nature,  by  being  what 
Lord  Clarendon  says  of  Charles  II.,  "a  pleasant, 
affable,  recommending  sort  of  wit;"  wholly  unpre- 
tending; and  so  exquisitely  suited  to  the  occasion 
that  it  never  failed  of  effect,  yet  so  readily  produced 
and  so  entirely  unambitious,  that  although  it  had 
occurred  to  nobody  before,  every  one  wondered  it 
had  not  suggested  itself  to  all.  A  few  only  of  his 
sayings  have  reached  us,  and  these,  as  might  be 
expected,  are  rather  things  which  he  had  chanced  to 
coat  over  with  some  sarcasm  or  epigram  that  tended 
to  preserve  them;  they  consequently  are  far  from 
giving  an  idea  of  his  habitual  pleasantry,  and  the 
gayety  of  thought  which  generally  pervaded  his 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  83 

speeches.  Thus,  when  a  vehement  declaimer,  calling 
aloud  for  his  head,  turned  around  and  perceived  his 
victim  unconsciously  indulging  in  a  soft  slumber, 
and  becoming  still  more  exasperated,  denounced  the 
Minister  as  capable  of  sleeping  while  he  ruined  his 
country — the  latter  only  complained  how  hard  it 
was  to  be  denied  a  solace  which  other  criminals  so 
often  enjoyed,  that  of  having  a  night's  rest  before 
their  fate.  When  surprised  in  a  like  indulgence 
during  the  performance  of  a  very  inferior  artist, 
who,  however,  showed  equal  indignation  at  so  ill- 
timed  a  recreation,  he  contented  himself  with  observ- 
ing, how  hard  it  was  that  he  should  be  grudged  so 
very  natural  a  release  from  considerable  suffering; 
but,  as  if  recollecting  himself,  added,  that  it  was 
somewhat  unjust  in  the  gentleman  to  complain  of 
him  taking  the  remedy  which  he  had  himself  been 
considerate  enough  to  administer.  The  same  good- 
humour  and  drollery  quitted  him  not  when  in  op- 
position. Every  one  has  heard  of  the  speech  which, 
if  it  had  failed  to  injure  the  object  of  its  attack,  was 
very  effectual  in  fixing  a  name  upon  its  honest  and 
much  respected  author.  On  Mr.  Martin's  proposal 
to  have  a  starling  placed  near  the  chair  and  taught 
to  repeat  the  cry  of  "Infamous  coalition!"  Lord 
North  coolly  suggested  that,  as  long  as  the  worthy 
member  was  preserved  to  them,  it  would  be  a  need- 
less waste  of  the  public  money,  since  the  starling 
might  well  perform  his  office  by  deputy.  That  in 
society  such  a  man  must  have  been  the  most  delight- 


84  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

ful  of  companions,  may  well  be  supposed.  In  his 
family,  and  in  all  his  private  intercourse  as  in  his 
personal  character  he  was  known  to  be  in  every 
respect  amiable;  of  scrupulous  integrity  and  unsul- 
lied honour. — Brougham 's  Statesmen. 

THEODORE    HOOK'S    HOAXING. 

In  a  life  of  the  author  of  the  "Ingolsby  Legends," 
prefixed  to  an  edition  of  that  work,  is  given  an  ac- 
count of  a  humorous  hoax,  played  off  by  Hook, 
upon  an  old  lady  from  the  country.  It  is  an  extract 
from  "  Ingolsby's"  diary. 

"  Hook  called,  and,  in  the  course  of  conversation, 
gave  me  an  account  of  his  going  to  Lord  Melville's 
trial  with  a  friend.  They  went  early,  and  were  en- 
gaged in  conversation  when  the  peers  began  to  enter. 
At  this  moment,  a  country-looking  lady,  whom  he 
afterward  found  to  be  a  resident  at  Eye,  in  Sussex, 
touched  his  arm,  and  said,  'I  beg  your  pardon,  sir, 
but  pray,  who  are  those  gentlemen  in  red,  now 
coming  in  ?'  '  Those,  rna'am,'  returned  Theodore, 
'  are  the  barons  of  England ;  in  these  cases  the  junior 
peers  always  come  first.'  'Thank  you,  sir,  much 
obliged  to  you.  Louisa,  my  dear,  (turning  to  a  girl 
about  fourteen,)  tell  Jane  (about  ten)  those  are  the 
barons  of  England,  and  the  juniors  (that's  the  young- 
est, you  know)  always  goes  first.  Tell  her  to  be 
sure  and  remember  that  when  we  get  home.'  '  Dear 
me,  mal'  said  Louisa,  'can  that  gentlemen  be  one 
of  the  youngest?  I  am  sure  he  looks  very  old/ 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  85 

Human  nature,  added  Hook,  could  not  stand  this; 
any  one,  though  with  no  more  mischief  in  him  than 
a  dove,  must  have  been  excited  to  a  hoax.  'And 
pray,  sir,'  continued  the  lady,  'what  gentlemen  are 
these?'  pointing  to  the  bishops,  who  came  next  in 
order,  in  the  dress  which  they  wear  on  state  occa- 
sions, viz.:  the  rochet  and  lawn  sleeves  over  their 
doctor's  robes.  'Gentlemen,  madam!'  said  Hook, 
'these  are  not  gentlemen;  these  are  ladies,  elderly 
ladies — dowager  peeresses  in  their  own  right.'  The 
fair  inquirer  fixed  a  penetrating  glance  upon  his 
countenance,  saying,  as  plainly  as  an  eye  can  say, 
'  Are  you  quizzing  me  or  no  ?'  Not  a  muscle  moved ; 
till,  at  last,  tolerably  well  satisfied  with  her  scrutiny, 
she  turned  round  and  whispered,  'Louisa,  dear,  the 
gentleman  says  that  these  are  elderly  ladies  and  dow- 
ager peeresses  in  their  own  right;  tell  Jane  not  to 
forget  that.'  All  went  on  smoothly,  till  the  Speaker 
of  the  House  of  Commons  attracted  her  attention  by 
the  rich  embroidery  of  his  robes.  'Pray,  sir,'  said 
she,  'and  who  is  that  fine  looking  person  opposite?' 
'That,  madam,'  was  the  answer,  'is  Cardinal  Wolsey.' 
'No,  sir,'  cried  the  lady,  drawing  herself  up,  and 
casting  at  her  informant  a  look  of  angry  disdain,  'we 
know  a  little  better  than  that ;  Cardinal  Wolsey  has 
been  dead  many  a  good  year !'  '  No  such  thing,  my 
dear  madam,  I  assure  you,'  replied  Hook,  with  a 
gravity  which  must  have  been  preternatural ;  '  it  has 
been,  I  know,  so  reported  in  the  country,  but  without 
the  least  foundation ;  in  fact,  those  rascally  newspa- 

8 


86  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

pers  will  say  any  thing.'  The  good  old  gentlewoman 
appeared  thunder-struck,  opened  her  eyes  to  their  full 
extent,  and  gasped  like  a  dying  carp ;  vox  faucibus 
hcesit,  seizing  a  daughter  with  each  hand,  she  hurried, 
without  a  word,  from  the  spot." 


KING    OF    CEYLON. 


Sydney  Smith,  in  one  of  his  reviews,  relates  an 
amusing  incident.  Speaking  of  the  king  of  Ceylon, 
he  says :  "  He  has  been  known  to  detain  a  string  of 
four  or  five  Dutch  embassies,  till  various  members  of 
the  legation  died  of  old  age  at  his  court,  while  they 
were  expecting  an  answer  to  their  questions,  and  a  re- 
turn to  their  presents ;  and  his  majesty  once  exasper- 
ated a-  little  French  ambassador  to  such  a  degree,  by 
the  various  pretences  under  which  he  kept  him  at  his 
court,  that  this  lively  member  of  the  corps  diploma- 
tique, one  day,  in  a  furious  passion,  attacked  six  or 
seven  of  his  majesty's  largest  elephants  sword  in 
hand,  and  would,  in  all  probability,  have  reduced 
them  to  mince-meat,  if  the  poor  beasts  had  not  been 
saved  from  the  unequal  combat." 

ENGLISH    AFTER-DINNER    SPEECHES. 

The  New  Monthly  Magazine  gives  the  following  as 
an  average  specimen  of  this  species  of  eloquence : — • 
"  This  I  may  say,  gentlemen — that  is,  perhaps,  I  may 
be  allowed  to  observe — to  remark,  rather  as  remark- 
ably expressive  of — to  observe,  I  would  say,  as  re- 
markably expressive  of  my  feelings  on  this  occa — on 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  87 

the  present  occasion — is,  gentlemen — that  I  consider 
this — I'm  sure  I  need  not  say — and  I  say  it  without 
hesitation — that  this  is  the  proudest  moment  of  my 
life,  (pause.)  For,  as  the  fabled  bird  of  poetry,  the 
phoenix,  of  our  immortal  bard,  derives  new  vitality 
from  the  ashes  of,  if  1  may  be  allowed  the  expression, 
an  expired  and  extinct  existence,  so  does  the  calm 
serenity  of  age  emanate  from  the  transitory  turbu- 
lence of  youth,  (pause.)  And,  gentlemen — gentle- 
men, I'm  quite  sure  I  need  not  add — need  not  add, 
on  the  present  occasion — what  I'm  sure  you  will 
readily  believe,  that  my  feelings  are  naturally,  on 
the  present  occasion — that  those  feelings,  I  say,  may 
be  conceived,  or  even  imagined,  but  they  can  neither 
be  described,  nor— nor — depicted,  (pause.)  For,  like 
the  poisonous  upas,  whose  deadly  and  devastating,' 
&c. — Fluent  for  two  minutes  and  a  half." 

TWO  EVILS. 

"There  are  only  two  bad  things  in  this  world," 
says  Hannah  More,  "  sin  and  bile." 

RESERVED    PERSONS. 

Persons  extremely  reserved  are  like  old  enamelled 
watches,  which  had  painted  covers,  that  hindered 
your  seeing  what  o'clock  it  was. —  Walpok. 

RETIREMENT. 

It  is  neither  so  easy  a  thing,  nor  so  agreeable  a  one, 
as  men  commonly  expect,  to  dispose  of  leisure  when 


88  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

they  retire  from  the'  business  of  the  world.  Their 
old  occupations  cling  to  them,  even  when  they  hope 
that  they  have  emancipated  themselves.  Go  to  any 
seaport  town,  and  you  will  see  that  the  sea-captain, 
who  has  retired  upon  his  well-earned  savings,  sets  up 
a  weather-cock  in  full  view  from  his  windows,  and 
watches  the  variations  of  the  wind  as  duly  as  when 
he  was  at  sea,  though  no  longer  with  the  same  anxi- 
ety. A  tallow-chandler,  having  amassed  a  fortune, 
disposed  of  his  business,  and  took  a  house  in  the 
country,  not  far  from  London,  that  he  might  enjoy 
himself;  and,  after  a  few  months'  trial  of  a  holiday 
life,  requested  permission  of  his  successor  to  come 
into  town  and  assist  him  on  melting  days.  The 
keeper  of  a  retail  spirit-shop,  having  in  like  manner 
retired  from  trade,  used  to  employ  himself  by  having 
one  puncheon  filled  with  water,  and  measuring  it  off 
by  pints  into  another.  A  butcher  in  a  small  town, 
for  some  little  time  after  he  had  left  off  business,  in- 
formed his  old"  customers,  that  he  meant  to  kill  a 
lamb  once  a  week,  just  for  amusement. — Tlie  Doctor. 

LICENSED   JESTER. 

If  it  were  possible  to  restore  dead  fashions  to  life, 
we  would  revive  the  office  of  jester.  It  is  by  the 
squandering  glances  of  the  fool,  that  the  wise  man's 
folly  is  anatomized  with  least  discomfort.  From  the 
professed  fool  he  may  receive  the  reproof  without 
feeling  the  humiliation  of  it,  and  the  medicine  will 
not  work  the  worse,  but  the  better,  for  being  admin- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  89 

istered  under  the  disguise  of  indulgence  or  recreation. 
It  would  be  well,  indeed,  if  every  man  who,  whether 
in  thought  or  in  action,  has  too  much  his  own  way, 
would  keep  a  licensed  jester.  All  coteries,  literary, 
political,  or  fashionable,  which  enjoy  the  dangerous 
privilege  of  leading  the  tastes  and  opinions  of  the 
little  circle  which  is  their  world,  ought  certainly  to 
keep  one  as  part  of  their  establishment.  The  House 
of  Commons,  being  at  once  the  most  powerful  body 
on  the  earth,  and  the  most  intolerant  of  criticism, 
stands  especially  in  need  of  an  officer  who  may  speak 
out  at  random,  without  fear  of  Newgate.  Every 
philosopher  who  has  a  system,  every  theologian  who 
heads  a  sect,  every  projector  who  gathers  a  company, 
every  interest  that  can  command  a  party,  would  do 
wisely  to  retain  a  privileged  jester. — Edinburgh 
Review. 

NATURAL    CURIOSITIES   OF    CEYLON. 

The  usual  stories  are  repeated  here,  of  the  im- 
mense size  and  voracious  appetite  of  a  certain  species 
of  serpent.  The  best  history  of  this  kind  we  ever 
remember  to  have  read,  was  of  a  serpent  killed  near 
one  of  our  settlements,  in  the  East  Indies ;  in  whose 
body  they  found  the  chaplain  of  the  garrison,  all  in 

black,  the  Rev.  Mr.  • ,  (somebody  or  other,  whose 

name  we  have  forgotten,)  and  who,  after  having  been 
missing  for  above  a  week,  was  discovered  in  this 
very  inconvenient  situation.  The  dominions  of  the 
king  of  Candia  are  partly  defended  by  leeches,  which 

8* 


90  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

abound  in  the  woods,  and  from  which  our  soldiers 
suffered  in  the  most  dreadful  manner.  The  Cey- 
lonese,  in  compensation  for  their  animated  plagues, 
are  endowed  with  two  vegetable  blessings,  the  cocoa- 
nut-tree  and  the  talipot-tree.  The  latter  affords  a 
prodigious  leaf,  impenetrable  to  sun  or  rain,  and  large 
enough  to  shelter  ten  men.  It  is  a  natural  umbrella, 
and  is  of  as  eminent  service  in  that  country  as  a 
greatcoat-tree  would  be  in  this. — Sydney  Smith. 

TENDERNESS   OF   WIT. 

Swift  says, — "  Nothing  is  so  tender  as  a  piece  of 
wit,  and  which  is  apt  to  suffer  so  much  in  the  car- 
riage. Some  things  are  extremely  witty  to-day,  or 
fasting,  or  in  this  place,  or  over  a  bottle;  any  of 
which,  by  the  smallest  transposal  or  misapplication, 
is  utterly  annihilated.  Thus,  wit  has  its  walks  and 
purlieus,  out  of  which  it  may  not  stray  the  breadth 
of  a  hair  upon  peril  of  being  lost." 

"The  old  Earl  of  Norwich,  who  was  esteemed  the 
greatest  wit  in  Charles  the  First's  reign,  when  Charles 
the  Second  came  to  the  throne  was  thought  nothing 
o£ — Sir  W.  Temple. 

THE    TURKISH    LANGUAGE. 

i 

The  Turks,  notwithstanding  the  conscientious 
moods  of  their  language,  are  not  more  remarkable 
for  veracity  than  their  neighbours,  who,  in  ancient 
times,  made  so  much  use  of  the  indefinite  tenses, 
and  were  said  to  be  always  liars. — The  Doctor. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  91 

LORD   THTJRLOW. 

Charles  Butler,  in  his  "  Eeminiscences,"  thus  men- 
tions a  speech  of  Lord  Thurlow's  in  reply  to  an 
attack  of  the  duke  of  Grafton,  during  the  inquiry 
into  Lord  Sandwich's  administration  of  Greenwich 
Hospital.  "  His  grace's  action  and  delivery,  when  he 
addressed  the  house,  were  singularly  dignified  and 
graceful ;  but  his  matter  was  not  equal  to  his  manner. 
He  reproached  Lord  Thurlow  with  his  plebeian  ex- 
traction, and  his  recent  admission  into  the  peerage. 
Particular  circumstances  caused  Lord  Thurlow's  re- 
ply to  make  a  deep  impression  on  the  reminiscent. 
His  lordship  had  spoken  too  often,  and  began  to  be 
heard  with  a  civil  but  visible  impatience.  Under 
these  circumstances,  he  was  attacked  in  the  manner 
we  have  mentioned.  He  rose  from  the  woolsack,  and 
advanced  slowly  to  the  place,  from  which  the  chan- 
cellor generally  addresses  the  house ;  then,  fixing  on 
the  duke  the  look  of  Jove,  when  he  has  grasped  the 
thunder ; — '  I  am  amazed,'  he  said,  in  a  level  tone  of 
voice,  '  at  the  attack  which  the  noble  duke  has  made 
upon  me.  Yes,  my  lords,'  considerably  raising  his 
voice,  'I  am  amazed  at  his  grace's  speech.  The  noble 
duke  cannot  look  before  him,  behind  him,  or  on 
either  side  of  him,  without  seeing  some  noble  peer, 
who  owes  his  seat  in  this  house  to  his  successful  ex- 
ertions in  this  profession  to  which  I  belong.  Does 
he  not  feel  that  it  is  as  honourable  to  owe  it  to  these, 
as  to  being  the  accident  of  an  accident  ?  To  all  these 


92  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

noble  lords  the  language  of  the  noble  duke  is  as  ap- 
plicable and  as  insulting  as  it  is  to  myself.  But  I 
do  not  fear  to  meet  it  single  and  alone.  No  one 
venerates  the  peerage  more  than  I  do, — but,  my  lords, 
I  must  say  that  the  peerage  solicited  me,  not  I  the 
peerage.  Nay  more, — I  can  say  and  will  say,  that 
as  a  peer  of  parliament, — as  speaker  of  this  right 
honourable  house, — as  keeper  of  the  great  seal, — as 
guardian  of  his  majesty's  conscience, — as  Lord  High 
Chancellor  of  England, — nay,  even  in  that  character 
alone,  in  which  the  noble  duke  would  think  it  an  affront 
to  be  considered, — but  which  character  none  can  deny 
me, — as  a  HAN,  I  am  at  this  moment  as  respectable, — 
I  beg  leave  to  add, — I  am  at  this  time  as  much  re- 
spected as  the  proudest  peer  I  now  look  down  upon.' 
The  effect  of  this  speech,  both  within  the  walls  of  par- 
liament and  out  of  them,  was  prodigious.  It  gave  Lord 
Thurlow  an  ascendency  in  the  house,  which  no  chan- 
cellor had  ever  possessed ;  it  invested  him,  in  public 
opinion,  with  a  character  of  independence  and  honour; 
and  this,  although  he  was  ever  upon  the  unpopular  side 
of  politics,  made  him  always  popular  with  the  people." 


PICKPOCKET. 


"A  gentleman,  who  saw  Wilkes's  carriage  drawn 
by  men,  (the  horses  being  taken  off,)  complained  to 
the  lord  mayor  that  he  had  lost  his  handkerchief  in 
the  crowd.  'Very  possibly,'  said  his  lordship,  'I 
fancy  one  of  Wilkes's  coach-horses  has  picked  your 
pocket" 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  93 


ALMANACS. 


In  the  last  century,  when  a  countryman  had 
walked  to  the  nearest  town,  thirty  miles  distant,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  seeing  an  almanac,  the  first 
that  had  been  heard  of  in  those  parts,  his  inquiring 
neighbours  crowded  round  the  man  on  his  return. 
"Well,  well,"  said  he,  "I  know  not!  it  maffles  and 
talks.  But  all  I  could  make  out  is,  that  Collop  Mon- 
day falls  on  a  Tuesday  next  year." — The  Doctor. 


MATERIALISM. 


Sydney  Smith  was  once  dining  with  a  French 
gentleman,  who  was  indulging,  not,  perhaps,  in  the 
best  possible  taste,  both  before  and  during  dinner,  in 
a  variety  of  freethinking  speculations,  and  ended  by 
avowing  himself  a  materialist.  "Yery  good  soup 
this,"  said  Mr.  Smith.  "  Oui,  Monsieur,  c'est  excel- 
lente"  "Pray,  sir,  do  you  believe  in  a  cook?" 


SCHOOL    RECOLLECTIONS. 


"With  some  persons  the  awes  and  terrors  of  youth 
last  for  ever  and  ever.  I  know,  for  instance,  an  old 
gentleman  of  sixty-eight,  who  said  to  me  one  morn- 
ing at  breakfast,  with  a  very  agitated  countenance, 
"I  dreamed  last  night  that  I  was  flogged  by  Dr. 
Raine."  Fancy  had  carried  him  back  five  and  fifty 
years  in  the  course  of  that  evening.  Dr.  Raine  and 
his  rod  were  just  as  awful  to  him  in  his  heart,  then, 
as  they  had  been  at  thirteen. — Thackeray. 


94  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

FOUR  INGREDIENTS  IN  CONVERSATION. 

The  first  ingredient  in  conversation  is  truth ;  the 
next,  good  sense ;  the  third,  humour ;  and  the  fourth, 
wit. — Sir  William  Temple. 

ENGLISH GERMAN. 

An  English  lady  resident  at  Coblentz,  one  day 
wishing  to  order  of  her  German  servant  (who  did 
not  understand  English)  a  boiled  fowl  for  dinner, 
Grettel  was  summoned,  and  that  experiment  began. 
It  was  one  of  the  lady's  fancies,  that  the  less  her 
words  resembled  h.er  native  tongue,  the  more  they 
must  be  like  German.  So  her  first  attempt  was  to 
tell  the  maid  that  she  wanted  a*  cheeking,  or  keeking. 
The  maid  opened  her  eyes  and  mouth,  and  shook  her 
head.  "It's  to  cook,"  said  the  mistress,  "  to  cook,  to 
put  in  an  iron  thing,  in  a  pit — pat — pot."  "Ish  un- 
derstand risht,"  said  the  maid,  in  her  Coblentz  patois. 
"It's  a  thing  to  eat,"  said  her  mistress,  "for  dinner — • 
for  deener — with  sauce,  soace — sowose.  What  on 
earth  am  I  to  do?"  exclaimed  the  lady  in  despair, 
but  still  making  another  attempt.  "  It's  a  little  crea- 
ture— a  bird — a  bard — a  beard — a  hen — a  hone — a 
fowl — a  fool ;  it's  all  covered  with  feathers — fathers — 
feeders !"  "  Ha,  ha,"  cried  the  delighted  German,  at 
last  getting  hold  of  a  catchword,  "  Ja,  ja!  fedders — 
ja  wohl!"  and  away  went  Grettel,  and  in  half  an  hour 
returned  triumphantly,  with  a  bundle  of  stationers' 
quills. — Hood. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  95 


SYDNEY    SMITH    ON    CANNING. 

When  Mr.  Canning  is  jocular  he  is  strong ;  when 
he  is  serious  he  is  like  Samson  in  a  wig ;  any  ordi- 
nary person  is  a  match  for  him ;  a  song,  an  ironical 
letter,  a  burlesque  ode,  a  smart  speech  of  twenty  min- 
utes, full  of  gross -misrepresentations  and  clever  turns, 
excellent  language,  a  spirited  manner,  lucky  quota- 
tion, success  in  provoking  dull  men,  some  half  infor- 
mation picked  up  in  Pall  Mall  in  the  morning ;  these 
are  our  friend's  natural  weapons ;  all  these  things  he 
can  do;  here  I  allow  him  to  be  truly  great;  nay,  I 
will  be  just,  a. id  go  still  farther,  if  he  would  confine 
himself  to  these  things,  and  consider  the  facets  and 
the  playful  to  be  the  basis  of  his  character,  he  would, 
for  that  species  of  man,  be  universally  regarded  as  a 
person  of  a  very  good  understanding;  call  him  a 
legislator,  a  reasoner,  and  the  conductor  of  the  affairs 
of  a  great  nation,  and  it  seems  to  me  as  absurd  as  if 
a  butterfly  were  to  teach  bees  to  make  honey.  That 
he  is  an  extraordinary  writer  of  small  poetry,  and  a 
diner-out  of  the  highest  lustre,  I  do  most  readily 
admit.  After  George  Selwyn,  and  perhaps  Tickell, 
there  has  been  no  such  man  for  this  half  century. 
The  foreign  secretary  is  a  gentleman,  a  respectable  as 
well  as  a  highly  agreeable  man  in  private  life ;  but 
you  may  as  well  feed  me  with  decayed  potatoes,  as 
console  me  for  the  miseries  of  Ireland,  by  the  re- 
sources of  his  sense  and  his  discretion.  It  is  only  the 
public  situation  which  this  gentleman  holds,  which 


96  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

entitles  me  or  induces  me  to  say  so  much  about  him. 
He  is  a  fly  in  amber ;  nobody  cares  about  the  fly : 
the  only  question  is,  How  the  devil  did  it  get  there  ? 
Nor  do  I  attack  him  from  the  love  of  glory,  but  from 
the  love  of  utility,  as  a  burgomaster  hunts  a  rat  in  a 
Dutch  dyke,  for  fear  it  should  flood  a  province. 


PAYING   FOR    THINGS. 


One  cannot  bear  to  pay  for  articles  he  used  to  get 
for  nothing.  "When  Adam  laid  out  his  first  penny 
upon  nonpareils  at  some  stall  in  Mesopotamia,  I  think 
it  went  hard  with  him,  reflecting  upon  his  old  goodly 
orchard,  where  he  had  so  many  for  nothing. — Lamb 


GAIN    OF    A    LOSS. 


Montaigne  has  a  pleasant  story  of  a  little  boy, 
who,  when  his  mother  had  lost  a  law-suit  which  he 
had  always  heard  her  speak  of  as  a  perpetual  cause 
of  trouble,  ran  up  to  her  in  great  glee,  to  tell  her  of 
the  loss,  as  a  matter  for  congratulation  and  joy ;  the 
poor  child  thinking  it  was  like  losing  a  cough,  or  any 
other  bodily  ailment. — The  Doctor. 


ODD  PARALLEL. 


It  was  a  clumsy  and  cruel  contrivance  of  the  Ro- 
mans, to  use  hedge-hogs  for  clothes-brushes,  and 
prepare  them  for  it  by  starving  them  to  death ;  our 
method  of  sweeping  chimneys  is  not  more  ingenious, 
and  little  less  inhuman. — Souihey. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  97 

AN  INTERRUPTION. 

It  is  not  easy  to  put  me  out  of  countenance,  or  in- 
terrupt the  feeling  of  the  time,  by  mere  external 
noise  or  circumstance ;  yet  once  I  was  thoroughly 
doiie  up.  I  was  reciting  at  a  particular  house,  the  Re- 
morse, and  was  in  the  midst  of  Athadra's  description 
of  the  death  of  her  husband,  when  a  scrubby  boy 
with  a  shining  face  set  in  dirt,  burst  open  the  door, 
and  cried  out:  "Please,  ma'am,  master  says,  will  you 
ha',  or  will  you  not  ha',  the  pin  round?" — Coleridge. 

SECRET   HISTORY   OF    BOOKS. 

If  the  secret  history  of  books  could  be  written, 
and  the  author's  private  thoughts  and  meanings 
noted  down  along-side  of  his  story,  how  many  insipid 
volumes  would  become  interesting,  and  dull  tales 
excite  the  reader. — Thackeray. 

RELIGIOUS    PERSECUTION. 

Sydney  Smith,  in  Peter  Plymley's  Letters,  after 
showing  the  folly  of  oppressing  the  Irish  Catholics, 
says,  "  I  admit  there  is  a  vast  luxury  in  selecting  a 
particular  set  of  Christians,  and  in  worrying  them  as 
a  boy  worries  a  puppy-dog ;  it  is  an  amusement  in 
which  all  the  young  English  are  brought  up  from 
their  earliest  days.  Cruelty  and  injustice  must,  of 
course,  exist;' but  why  connect  them  with  danger? 
Why,"  he  asks,  "  torture  a  bull-dog,  when  you  can 
get  a  frog  or  a  rabbit  ?" 

9 


98  AFTER-DINNEE    TABLE-TALK. 


UNANIMITY. 


"We  must  be  unanimous,"  said  Hancock,  on  the 
occasion  of  signing  the  Declaration  of  Independence ; 
"  there  must  be  no  pulling  different  ways."  "  Yes," 
answered  Franklin,  "we  must  all  hang  together,  or 
most  assuredly  we  shall  all  hang  separately." 


OFFICIAL    DRESS.  • 

The  Americans,  we  believe,  are  the  first  persons 
who  have  discarded  the  tailor  in  the  administration 
of  justice,  and  his  auxiliary  the  barber — two  persons 
of  endless  importance  in  codes  and  pandects  of  Eu- 
rope. A  judge  administers  justice,  without  a  calorific 
wig  and  party-coloured  gown,  in  a  coat  and  pantaloons. 
He  is  obeyed,  however ;  and  life  and  property  are 
not  badly  protected  in  the  United  States.  We  shall 
be  denounced  by  the  laureate  as  atheists  and  jacobins ; 
but  we  must  say,  that  we  have  doubts  whether  one 
atom  of  useful  influence  is  added  to  men  in  important 
situations  by  any  colour,  quantity,  or  configuration 
of  cloth  and  hair.  The  true  progress  of  refinement, 
we  conceive,  is  to  discard  all  the  mountebank  drapery 
of  barbarous  ages.  One  row  of  gold  and  fur  falls  off 
after  another  from  the  robe  of  power,  and  is  picked 
up  and  worn  by  the  parish  beadle  and  the  exhibitor 
of  wild  beasts.  Meantime,  the  afflicted  wiseacre 
mourns  over  equality  of  garment;  and  wotteth  not 
of  two  men,  whose  doublets  have  cost  alike,  how  one 
shall  command  and  the  other  obey. — Sydney  Smith, 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK,  99 

PREACHING    TO    THE    POOR. 

A  woman  in  humble  life  was  asked  one  day, 
on  her  way  back  from  church,  whether  she  had  un- 
derstood the  sermon, — a  stranger  having  preached. 
"  Wud  I  hae  the  presumption  1"  was  her  simple  and 
contented  answer. 

"  Well,  Master  Jackson,"  said  his  minister,  walk- 
ing homeward  after  service,  with  an  industrious  la- 
bourer, who  was  a  constant  attendant ;  "  well,  Master 
Jackson,  Sunday  must  be  a  blessed  day  of  rest  for 
you,  who  work  so  hard  all  the  week!  And  you 
make  good  use  of  the  day ;  for  you  are  always  to  be 
seen  at  church !"  "  Aye,  sir,"  replied  Jackson,  "it  is, 
indeed,  a  blessed  day ;  I  works  hard  enough  all  the 
week ;  and  then  I  comes  to  church  o'  Sundays,  and 
sets  me  down,  and  lays  my  legs  up,  and  thinks  o1 
nothing." — The  Doctor. 

SEARCH   AFTER    CONTENTMENT. 

I  know  a  man  that  had  health  and  riches,  and 
several  houses,  all  ready  furnished,  and  would  often 
trouble  himself  and  family  to  be  moving  from  one 
house  to  another,  and  being  asked  by  a  friend  why 
he  removed  so  often  from  one  house  to  another,  re- 
plied, "  It  was  to  find  content  in  some  one  of  them." 
But  his  friend,  knowing  his  temper,  told  him  if  he 
would  find  content  in  any  one  of  his  houses,  he  must 
leave  himself  behind  him;  for  content  will  never 
dwell  but  in  a  meek  and  quiet  soul. —  Walton's  Angler. 


100  AFTER-DINNER.    TABLE-TALK. 

LABOUR   OF    IDLENESS. 

"  There  is  more  fatigue,"  says  Tom  Brown,  "  and 
trouble  in  a  lady  than  in  the  most  laborious  life : 
who  would  not  rather  drive  a  wheelbarrow  with  nuts 
about  the  streets,  or  cry  brooms,  than  be  Arsennus?" 
(a  fine  gentleman.)  When  Sir  Horace  Yere  died,  it 
was  asked  what  had  occasioned  his  death  ;  to  which 
some  one  replied,  "  By  doing  nothing." 

OLD   BEAUTIES. 

Lady  Ailesbury  and  Lady  Stafford  preserved  their 
loveliness  so  long,  that  "Walpole  called  them  Hucka- 
back Beauties,  that  never  wear  out. 

HYPOCRISY   OF    A    LORD    CHANCELLOR. 

When  Lord  Thurlow  had,  in  1788,  first  intrigued 
actively  with  the  whigs  and  the  Prince  upon  the 
Eegency  question,  being  apparently  inclined  to 
prevent  his  former  colleague,  and  now  competitor, 
from  clutching  that  prize — suddenly  discovering 
from  one  of  the  physicians  the  approaching  conva- 
lescence of  the  royal  patient,  he  at  one  moment's 
warning  quitted  the  Carlton  House  party,  with  an 
assurance  unknown  to  all  besides,  perhaps  even  to 
himself  not  known  before,  and  in  his  place  undertook 
the  defence  of  the  king's  rights  against  his  son  and 
his  partisans.  The  concluding  sentence  of  this  un- 
heard of  performance  was  calculated  to  set  all  belief 
at  defiance,  coming  from  the  man  and  in  the  circum 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  101 

stances.  It  assumed,  for  the  sake  of  greater  impres- 
siveness,  the  form  of  a  prayer ;  though  certainly  it 
was  not  poured  out  in  the  notes  of  supplication,  but 
rather  rung  forth  in  the  sounds  that  weekly  call  men 
to  the  service :  "  And  when  I  forget  my  sovereign, 
may  my  God  forget  me !"  Whereupon  Wilkes, 
seated  upon  the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  who  had 
known  him  long  and  well,  is  reported  to  have  said, 
somewhat  coarsely,  but  not  unhappily,  it  must  be 

allowed,  "  Forget  you  ?    He'll  see  you  d d  first." 

— Brougham's  Statesman. 

EVENINGS  AT  HOLLAND  HOUSE. 

In  the  Edinburgh  Eeview  is  a  glowing  picture  of 
the  evenings  at  Holland  House  and  of  its  admirable 
master,  drawn  by  a  favourite  guest  shortly  after  Lord 
Holland's  death : — 

"The  time  is  coming  when,  perhaps,  a  few  old 
men,  the  last  survivors  of  our  generation,  will  in  vain 
seek,  amidst  new  streets,  and  squares,  and  railway 
stations,  for  the  site  of  that  dwelling  which  was  in 
their  youth  the  favourite  resort  of  wits  and  beauties 
— of  painters  and  poets — of  scholars,  philosophers, 
and  statesmen.  They  will  then  remember,  with 
strange  tenderness,  many  objects  once  familiar  to 
them — the  avenue  and  the  terrace,  the  busts  and  the 
paintings;  the  carving,  the  grotesque  gilding,  and 
the  enigmatical  mottoes.  With  peculiar  fondness 
they  will  recall  that  venerable  chamber,  in  which  all 
the  ancient  gravity  of  a  college  library  was  so  singu- 

9* 


102  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

larly  blended  with  all  that  female  grace  and  wit  could 
devise  to  embellish  a  drawing-room.  They  will  rec- 
ollect, not  unmoved,  those  shelves  loaded  with  the 
varied  learning  of  many  lands  and  many  ages ;  those 
portraits  in  which  were  preserved  the  features  of  the 
best  and  wisest  Englishmen  of  two  generations.  They 
will  recollect  how  many  men  who  have  guided  the 
politics  of  Europe — who  have  moved  great  assemblies 
by  reason  and  eloquence — who  have  put  life  into 
bronze  and  canvas,  or  who  have  left  to  posterity 
things  so  written,  that  it  shall  not  willingly  let  them 
die — were  there  mixed  with  all  that  was  loveliest  and 
gayest  in  the  society  of  the  most  splendid  of  capitals. 
They  will  remember  the  singular  character  which 
belonged  to  that  circle,  in  which  every  talent  and 
accomplishment,  every  art  and  science,  had  its  place. 
They  will  remember  how  the  last  debate  was  dis- 
cussed in  one  corner,  and  the  last  comedy  of  Scribe  in 
another;  while  Wilkie  gazed  with  modest  admiration 
on  Eeynold's  Baretti ;  while  Mackintosh  turned  over 
Thomas  Aquinas  to  verify  a  quotation ;  while  Tal- 
leyrand related  his  conversations  with  Barras  at  the 
Luxembourg,  or  his  ride  with  Lannes  over  the  field 
of  Austerlitz.  They  will  remember,  above  all,  the 
grace — and  the  kindness,  far  more  admirable  than  grace 
— with  which  the  princely  hospitality  of  that  ancient 
mansion  was  dispensed.  They  will  remember  the 
venerable  and  benignant  countenance,  and  the  cordial 
voice  of  him  who  bid  them  welcome.  They  will 
remember  that  temper,  which  years  of  pain,  of  sick- 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  103 

ness,  of  lameness,  of  confinement,  seemed  only  to 
make  sweeter  and  sweeter ;  and  that  frank  politeness, 
which  at  once  relieved  all  the  embarrassment  of  the 
youngest  and  the  most  timid  writer  or  artist,  who 
found  himself  for  the  first  time  among  ambassadors 
and  earls.  They  will  remember  that  constant  flow 
of  conversation,  so  natural,  so  animated,  so  various, 
so  rich  with  observation  and  anecdote;  that  wit 
which  never  gave  a  wound ;  that  exquisite  mimicry 
which  ennobled,  instead  of  degrading ;  that  goodness 
of  heart  which  appeared  in  every  look  and  accent, 
and  gave  additional  value  to  every  talent  and  ac- 
quirement. They  will  remember,  too,  that  he  whose 
name  they  hold  in  reverence  was  not  less  distin- 
guished by  the  inflexible  uprightness  of  his  political 
conduct,  than  by  his  loving  disposition  and  winning 
manners.  They  will  remember,  that,  in  the  last  lines 
which  he  traced,  he  expressed  his  joy  that  he  had 
done  nothing  unworthy  of  the  friend  of  Fox  and 
Grey ;  and  they  will  have  reason  to  feel  similar  joy, 
i£  in  looking  back  on  many  troubled  years,  they 
cannot  accuse  themselves  of  having  done  any  thing 
unworthy  of  men  who  were  distinguished  by  the 
friendship  of  Lord  Holland." 

RELIGIOUS   INTOLERANCE. 

For  what  a  length  of  years  was  it  attempted  to 
compel  the  Scotch  to  change  their  religion:  horse, 
foot,  artillery,  and  armed  prebendaries,  were  sent  out 
after  the  Presbyterian  parsons  and  their  congrega- 


104  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

tions ;  but  to  their  astonishment  and  horror,  they 
could  not  introduce  the  book  of  Common  Prayer,  nor 
prevent  that  metaphysical  people  from  going  to 
heaven  their  true  way,  instead  of  our  true  way. 
With  a  little  oatmeal  for  food,  and  a  little  sulphur  for 
friction,  allaying  cutaneous  irritation  with  the  one 
hand,  and  holding  his  Calvinistical  creed  in  the  other, 
Sawney  ran  away  to  his  flinty  hills,  sung  his  psalm 
out  of  tune  his  own  way,  and  listened  to  his  sermon 
of  two  hours  long,  amid  the  rough  and  imposing 
melancholy  of  the  tallest  thistles.  But  Sawney 
brought  up  his  unbreeched  offspring  in  a  cordial 
hatred  of  his  oppressors ;  and  Scotland  was  as  much 
a  part  of  the  weakness  of  England  then  as  Ireland  is 
at  this  moment.  The  true  and  the  only  remedy  was 
applied;  the  Scotch  were  suffered  to  worship  God 
after  their  own  tiresome  manner,  without  pain, 
penalty,  and  privation.  No  lightnings  descended 
from  heaven ;  the  country  was  not  ruined ;  the 
world  is  not  yet  come  to  an  end ;  the  dignitaries,  who 
foretold  all  these  consequences,  are  utterly  forgotten  ; 
and  Scotland  has  ever  since  been  an  increasing 
source  of  strength  to  Great  Britain. — Sydney  Smith. 


PLATING    CARDS. 


It  is  quite  right  that  there  should  be  a  heavy  duty 
on  cards ;  not  only  on  moral  grounds ;  not  only  be- 
cause they  act  on  a  social  party  like  a  torpedo,  silen- 
cing the  merry  voice,  and  numbing  the  play  of  the 
features ;  not  only  to  still  the  hunger  of  the  public 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  105 

purse,  which,  reversing  the  qualities  of  Fortunatus,  is 
always  erapt y,  however  much  you  may  put  into  it ; 
but,  also,  because  every  pack  of  cards  is  a  malicious 
libel  on  courts,  and  on  the  world,  seeing  that  the 
trumpery  with  number  one  at  the  head  is  the  best 
part  of  them  ;  and  that  it  gives  kings  and  queens  no 
other  companions  than  knaves. — Guesses  at  Truth. 

SIGN   FOR    A   SCHOOL. 

A  widow-friend  of  Lamb,  having  opened  a  pre- 
paratory school  for  children  at  Camden  Town,  said 
to  him,  "  I  live  so  far  from  town  I  must  have  a  sign, 
I  think  you  call  it,  to  show  that  I  teach  children." 
"  Well,"  he  replied,  "  you  can  have  nothing  better 
than  '  The  Murder  of  the  Innocents.1  " 


FRENCH    LANGUAGE. 


When  some  one  was  expatiating  on  the  merits  of 
the  French  language  to  Mr.  Canning,  he  exclaimed : 
"  Why,  what  on  earth,  sir,  can  be  expected  of  a  lan- 
guage, which  has  but  one  word  for  liking  and  loving, 
and  puts  a  fine  woman  and  a  leg  of  mutton  on  a  par : 
J'aime  Julie;  faime  un  gigot/" — Quarterly  Review. 

PULPIT    ELOQUENCE. 

Pulpit  discourses  have  insensibly  dwindled  from 
speaking  to  reading ;  a  practice,  of  itself,  sufficient  to 
stifle  every  germ  of  eloquence.  It  is  only  by  the 
fresh  feelings  of  the  heart,  that  mankind  can  be  very 
powerfully  affected.  What  can  be  more  ludicrous, 


106  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

than  an  orator  delivering  stale  indignation,  and  fer- 
vour of  a  week  old;  turning  over  whole  pages  of 
violent  passions,  written  out  in  German  text ;  reading 
the  tropes  and  apostrophes  into  which  he  is  hurried 
by  the  ardour  of  his  mind ;  and  so  affected  at  a  pre- 
concerted line  and  page,  that  he  is  unable  to  proceed 
any  farther ! — Sydney  Smith. 

VOLTTMINOUS    TRIPLING. 

Dr.  Shaw,  the  naturalist,  was  one  day  showing  to 
a  friend  two  volumes  written  by  a  Dutchman,  upon 
the  wings  of  a  butterfly,  in  the  British  Museum. 
"  The  dissertation  is  rather  voluminous,  perhaps  you 
will  think,"  said  the  Doctor,  gravely,  "but  it  is  im- 
mensely important." — The  Doctor. 

A   SHARP    SET. 

The  sexton  of  Salisbury  Cathedral,  was  telling 
Lamb,  that  eight  persons  had  dined  together  upon 
the  top  of  the  spire ;  upon  which  he  remarked,  that 
"  They  must  have  been  sharp  set." 

SMALL    KNOWLEDGE. 

A  luckless  undergraduate  of  Cambridge,  being  ex- 
amined for  his  degree,  and  failing  in  every  subject 
upon  which  he  was  tried,  complained  that  he  had  not 
been  questioned  upon  the  things  which  he  knew. 
Upon  which,  the  examining  master  tore  off  about  an 
inch  of  paper,  and  pushing  it  towards  him,  desired 
him  to  write  upon  that  all  he  knew. — The  Doctor. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  107 

DEFINITION   OF    TIMBER. 

Lord  Caernarvon  defined  timber  as  an  excrescence 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  placed  there  by  Providence, 
for  the  payment  of  debts. 

NARROW   MINDS. 

Dr.  Johnson  describes  a  class  of  persons,  who 
make  a  figure  in  the  House  of  Commons,  while  they 
have  minds  as  narrow  as  the  neck  of  a  vinegar 
cruet. 

Dr.  Franklin,  talking  of  a  friend  of  his  who  had 
been  a  Manchester  dealer,  said,  "that  he  never  sold  a 
piece  of  tape  narrower  than  his  own  mind." 

PARLIAMENTARY   JOKES. 

Of  what  use  a  story  may  be,  even  in  the  most 
serious  debates,  may  be  seen  from  the  circulation  of 
old  Joes  in  Parliament,  which  are  as  current  there  as 
their  current  namesakes  used  to  be  in  the  city  some 
threescore  years  ago.  A  jest,  though  it  shall  be  as 
stale  as  last  year's  newspaper,  and  as  flat  as  Lord 
Flounder's  face,  is  sure  to  be  received  with  laughter  by 
the  collective  wisdom  of  the  nation :  nay,  it  is  some- 
times thrown  out  like  a  tub  to  the  whale,  or  like  a 
trail  of  carrion  to  draw  off  hounds  from  the  scent. — 
The  Doctor. 

PLEASANT    TIMES. 

From  the  beginning  of  the  century  to  the  death 
of  Lord  Liverpool,  was  an  awful  period  for  those  who 


108  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

had  the  misfortune  to  entertain  liberal  opinions,  and 
who  were  too  honest  to  sell  them  for  the  ermine  of 
the  judge,  or  the  lawn  of  the  prelate : — a  long  and 
hopeless  career  in  yeur  profession — the  chuckling  grin 
of  noodles,  the  sarcastic  leer  of  the  genuine  political 
rogue — prebendaries,  deans,  and  bishops  made  over 
your  head — reverend  renegadoes  advanced  to  the 
highest  dignities  of  the  Church,  for  helping  to  rivet 
the  fetters  of  Catholic  and  Protestant  Dissenters — and 
no  more  chance  of  a  whig  administration  than  of  a 
thaw  in  Zembla — these  were  the  penalties  exacted 
for  liberality  of  opinion  at  that  period  ;  and  not  only 
was  there  no  pay,  but  there  were  many  stripes. — 
Sydney  Smith. 

ROYAL    SAYING. 

X 

Alphonsus,  surnamed  the  Wise,  king  of  Aragon, 
used  to  say,  "  That  among  so  many  things  as  are  by 
men  possessed  or  pursued  in  the  course  of  their  lives, 
all  the  rest  are  baubles,  besides  old  wood  to  burn,  old 
wine  to  drink,  old  friends  to  converse  with,  and  old 
books  to  read." 

* 

ST.    EVREMONT. 

St.  Evremont  was  a  celebrated  duellist.  He  had 
discovered  a  particular  thrust,  which  was  honoured 
with  his  name,  and  called  la  botte  de  St.  Evremont. 
This  brave  was  witty  and  capricious,  and  would  ac- 
cept or  refuse  a  challenge  according  to  the  fancy  of 
the  moment.  Some  of  his  duels  were  remarkable. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  109 

One  day  at  the  Cafe  Procope,  at  dinner-time,  he  saw 
a  gentleman  seated  at  a  bavaroise,  and  he  exclaimed, 
"  That  is  a  confounded  bad  dinner  for  a  gentleman  !" 
The  stranger  thus  insulted  insisted  upon  satisfaction, 
which  was  granted;  when  St.  Foix  was  wounded. 
Notwithstanding  his  injury,  he  coolly  said  to  his 
antagonist,  "  If  you  had  killed  me,  sir,  I  still  should 
have  persisted  in  maintaining  that  a  bavaroise  is  a 
confounded  bad  dinner."  Another  time  he  asked  a 
gentleman,  whose  aroma  was  not  of  the  most  pleasant 
nature,  "  Why  the  devil  he  smelt  so  confoundedly  ?" 
The  offended  party  sent  a  challenge,  which  he  refused 
in  the  following  terms :  "  Were  you  to  kill  me  you 
would  not  smell  the  less,  and  were  I  to  kill  you,  you 
would  smell  the  more."  One  day,  meeting  a  lawyer 
whose  countenance  did  not  please  him,  he  walked  up 
to  him  and  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Sir,  I  have  some 
business  with  you."  The  attorney,  not  understand- 
ing the  drift  of  his  speech,  quietly  named  an  hour 
when  he  would  find  him  in  his  office.  The  meeting 
was,  of  course,  most  amusing,  the  expression  of  St. 
Foix  being,  "  that  he  wanted  to  have  an  affaire  with 
him,"  a  term  which  is  equally  applicable  to  a  duel 
and  a  legal  transaction. — Millingeri's  History  of  Duel- 
ling. 

HUMAN   ABILITIES. 

The  abilities  of  a  man  must  fall  short  upon  one 
side  or  the  other,  like  too  scanty  a  blanket  when 
you  are  abed,  if  you  pull  it  upon  your  shoulders,  you 

10 


110  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

leave  your  feet  bare;    if  you  thrust  it  down  upon 
your  feet,  your  shoulders  are  uncovered. — Temple. 

IMPERTINENCE    OF   AN    OPINION. 

Sydney  Smith  says,  that  it  is  always  considered  as 
a  piece  of  impertinence  in  England,  if  a  man  of  less 
than  two  or  three  thousand  a  year  has  any  opinions 
at  all  upon  important  subjects. 

TOO  LATE. 

"Some  men  are  always  too  late,  and,  therefore,  ac- 
complish, through  life,  nothing  worth  naming.  If 
they  promise  to  meet  you  at  such  an  hour,  they  are 
never  present  till  thirty  minutes  after.  No  matter 
how  important  the  business,  either  to  yourself  or  to 
him,  he  is  just  as  tardy.  If  he  takes  a  passage  in  the 
steamboat,  he  arrives  just  as  the  boat  has  left  the 
wharf,  and  the  cars  have  started  a  few  moments  be- 
fore he  arrives.  His  dinner  has  been  waiting  for  him 
so  long  that  the  cook  is  out  of  patience,  and  half  the 
time  is  obliged  to  set  the  table  again.  This  course, 
the  character  we  have  described,  always  pursues.  He 
is  never  in  season,  at  church,  at  a  place  of  business, 
at  his  meals,  or  in  his  bed.  Persons  of  such  habits 
we  cannot  but  despise.  Much  rather  would  we  have 
a  man  too  early  to  see  us,  and  always  ready,  even  if 
he  should  carry  out  his  principle  to  the  extent  of  the 
good  deacon,  who,  in  following  to  the  tomb  the  re- 
mains of  a  husband  and  father,  hinted  to  the  bereaved 
widow,  that,  at  a  proper  time,  he  should  be  happy  to 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  Ill 

marry  her.  The  deacon  was  in  season ;  for  scarcely 
had  the  relatives  and  friends  retired  to  the  house, 
before  the  parson  made  the  same  proposition  to  the 
widow.  'You  are  too  late,'  said  she,  'the  deacon 
spoke  to  me  at  the  grave." 

PUN  OF  HOOK. 

Hook  and  one  of  his  friends  happened  to  .come  to 
a  bridge,  "  Do  you  know  who  built  this  bridge,"  said 
he  to  Hook.  "No,  but  if  you  go  over  you'll  be 
tolled." 

HENDERSON,    THE   ACTOR. 

"Henderson,  the  actor,  was  seldom  known  to  be  in 
a  passion.  When  at  Oxford,  he  was  one  day  de- 
bating with  a  fellow-student,  who  not  keeping  his 
temper,  threw  a  glass  of  wine  in  the  actor's  face, 
when  Henderson  took  out  his  handkerchief,  wiped 
his  face  and  coolly  said,  '  That,  sir,  was  a  dijpssion ; 
now  for  the  argument." 

ANECDOTES   OF    THE    LATE    JAMES    SMITH, 
(One  of  the  Authors  of  the  Rejected  Addresses.) 

The  Law  Quarterly  Magazine  informs  us,  that 
James  Smith's  coup  d'essai  in  literature  "  was  a  hoax, 
in  the  shape  of  a  series  of  letters  to  the  editor  of 
the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  detailing  some  extraordi- 
nary antiquarian  discoveries  and  facts  in  natural 
history,  which  the  worthy  Sylvanus  Urban  inserted 
without  the  least  suspicion ;  and  we  understand  that 


112  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

the  members  of  the  Antiquarian  and  Zoological 
Societies  are  still  occasionally  in  the  habit  of  ap- 
pealing to  them  in  corroboration  of  their  theories." 

In  the  same  article  we  find  many  characteristic 
and  humorous  anecdotes  of  Smith,  some  of  which 
we  shall  quote. 

"One  of  James  Smith's  favourite  anecdotes  re- 
lated to  Colonel  Greville.  The  colonel  requested 
his  young  ally  to  call  at  his  lodgings,  and  in  the 
course  of  their  first  interview  related  the  particulars 
of  the  most  curious  circumstance  in  his  life.  He 
was  taken  prisoner  during  the  American  war,  along 
with  three  other  officers  of  the  same  rank;  one 
evening  they  were  summoned  into  the  presence  of 
Washington,  who  announced  to  them  that  the  con- 
duct of  their  government,  in  condemning  one  of  his 
officers  to  death,  as  a  rebel,  compelled  him  to  make 
reprisals,  and  that,  much  to  his  regret,  he  was  under 
the  ne^sity  of  requiring  them  to  cast  lots,  without  de- 
lay, to  decide  which  of  them  should  be  hanged.  They 
were  then  bowed  out,  and  returned  to  their  quarters. 
Four  slips  of  paper  were  put  into  a  hat,  and  the 
shortest  was  drawn  by  Captain  Asgill,  who  ex- 
claimed, 'I  knew  how  it  would  be;  I  never  won 
so  much  as  a  hit  at  backgammon  in  my  life.'  As 
Greville  told  the  story,  he  was  selected  to  sit  up 
with  Captain  Asgill,  under  the  pretence  of  com- 
panionship, but  in  reality  to  prevent  him  from 
escaping,  and,  leaving  the  honour  amongst  the  re- 
maining three.  ,  '  And  what,'  inquired  Smith,  '  did 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  113 

you  say  to  comfort  him  ?'  '  Why,  I  remember  say- 
ing to  him,  when  they  left  us,  D •  tV,  old  fellow, 

never  mind;1  but  it  may  be  doubted  (added  Smith) 
whether  he  drew  much  comfort  from  the  exhortation. 
Lady  Asgill  persuaded  the  French  minister  to  inter- 
pose, and  the  captain  was  permitted  to  escape. 

"  The  fame  of  the  brothers,  James  and  Horatio 
Smith,  was  confined  to  a  limited  circle,  until  the  pub- 
lication of  The  Rejected  Addresses.  James  used  to 
dwell  with  much  pleasure  on  the  criticism  of  a  Lei- 
cestershire clergyman:  'I  do  not  see  why  they  (the 
Addresses)  should  have  been  rejected:  I  think  some 
of  them  very  good.'  This,  he  would  add,  is  almost 
as  good  as  the  avowal  of  the  Irish  bishop,  that  there 
were  some  things  in  Grulliver's  Travels  which  he  could 
not  believe. 

"Though  never  guilty  of  intemperance,  James 
Smith  was  a  martyr  to  the  gout ;  and,  independently 
of  the  difficulty  he  experienced  in  locomotion,  he 
partook  largely  of  the  feeling  avowed  by  his  old 
friend  Jekyll,  who  used  to  say  that,  if  compelled  to 
live  in  the  country,  he  would  have  the  drive  before 
his  house  paved  like  the  streets  of  London,  and  hire 
a  hackney-coach  to  drive  up  and  down  all  day  long. 

"  He  used  to  tell,  with  great  glee,  a  story  showing 
the  general  conviction  of  his  dislike  to  ruralities.  He 
was  sitting  in  the  library  at  a  country-house,  when  a 
gentleman  proposed  a  quiet  stroll  into  the  pleasure- 
grounds  : — 

'  Stroll !  why  don't  you  see  my  gouty  shoe  ?' 
10* 


114  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

'Yes,  I  see  that  plain  enough,  and  I  wish  I'd 
brought  one  too,  but  they're  all  out  now.' 

*  Well,  and  what  then?' 

'What,  then?  why,  my  dear  fellow,  you  don't 
mean  to  say  that  you  have  really  got  the  gout  ?  I 
thought  you  had  only  put  on  that  shoe  to  get  off 
being  shown  over  the  improvements.' 

"James  Smith  was  also  in  the  habit  of  sending 
Lady  Blessington  occasional  epigrams,  complimentary 
scraps  of  verse,  or  punning  notes,  like  the  following : — 

1  The  newspapers  tell  us  that  your  new  carriage  is 
very  highly  varnished.  This,  I  presume,  means  your 
wheeled-carriage.  The  merit  of  your  personal  car- 
riage has  always  been  to  my  mind,  its  absence  from 
all  varnish.  The  question  requires  that  a  jury  should 
be  impanelled.1 

"  Or  this :— 

*  DEAR  LADY  BLESSINGTON  : 

'  When  you  next  see  your  American  friend,  have 
the  goodness  to  accost  him  as  follows, — 

'  In  England  rivers  all  are  males— 

For  instance,  Father  Thames ; 
Whoever  in  Columbia  sails, 

Finds  them  ma'mselles  or  dames. 

'  Yes,  there  the  softer  sex  presides, 

Aquatic,  I  assure  ye, 
And  Mrs.  Sippy  rolls  her  tides, 
Responsive  to  Miss  SourL 

*  Your  ladyship's  faithful  and  devoted  servant, 

'JAMES  SMITH.' 


AFTER.-DINNEB.    TABLE-TALK.  115 

"  His  bachelorship  is  thus  recorded  in  his  niece's 
album — 

'  Should  I  seek  Hymen's  tie 

As  a  poet  I  die, 
Te  Benedicts  mourn  my  distresses  1 

For  what  little  fame 

Is  annexed  to  my  name, 
Is  derived  from  Rejected  Addresses' 

"His  solitary  state,  however,  certainly  proceeded 
rather  from  too  discursive  than  too  limited  an  admira- 
tion of  the  sex,  for  to  the  latest  hour  of  his  life,  he 
gave  a  marked  preference  to  their  society,  and  dis- 
liked a  dinner-party  composed  exclusively  of  males. 

"The  following  is  among  the  best  of  his  good 
things.  A  gentleman,  with  the  same  Christian  and 
surname,  took  lodgings  in  the  same  house.  The  con- 
sequence was,  eternal  confusion  of  calls  and  letters. 
Indeed,  the  postman  had  no  alternative  but  to  share 
the  letters  equally  between  the  two.  '  This  is  intol- 
erable, sir,'  said  our  friend,  'and  you  must  quit.' 
'Why  am  I  to  quit  more  than  you?'  'Because  you 
are  James  the  Second — and  must  abdicate.' 

"  As  lawyers,  we  are  glad  to  be  able  to  add,  that 
he  had  an  unfeigned  respect  for  the  profession. 

"Smith  was  rather  fond  of  a  joke  on  his  own 
branch  of  the  profession ;  he  always  gave  a  peculiar 
emphasis  to  the  line  in  his  song,  on  the  contradiction 
in  names ; 

'  Mr  Makepeace  -was  bred  an  attorney ;' 

and  would  frequently  quote  Goldsmith's  lines  on 


116  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

Hickey,   the  associate  of  Burke  and  other  distin- 
guished contemporaries : — 

'  He  cherished  his  friend,  and  he  relished  a  bumper ; 
Yet  one  fault  he  had,  and  that  was  a  thumper. 
Then,  what  was  his  failing  ?  come  tell  it,  and  burn  ye. 
He  was,  could  he  help  it  ?  a  special  attorney 

"The  following  playful  colloquy  in  verse  took 
place  at  a  dinner-table  between  Sir  George  Eose  and 
Smith,  in  allusion  to  Craven-street,  Strand,  where  he 
resided : — 

J.  S. — '  In  Craven-street,  Strand,  ten  attorneys  find  place, 

And  ten  dark  coal-barges  are  moored  at  its  base : 

Fly,  Honesty,  fly  to  some  safer  retreat, 

For  there's  craft  in  the  river,  and  craft  in  the  street' 

Sir  G.  R. — '  Why  should  Honesty  fly  to  some  safer  retreat, 

From  attorneys  and  barges,  od  rot  'em  ? 
For  the  lawyers  are  just  at  the  top  of  the  street, 

And  the  barges  are  just  at  the  bottom.' 

"  He  had  a  keen  relish  for  life,  but  he  spoke  calm- 
ly and  indifferently  about  dying — as  in  the  verses  on 
revisiting  Chigwell : — 

'  I  fear  not,  Fate,  thy  pendant  shears ; 
There  are  who  pray  for  length  of  years, 
To  them,  not  me,  allot  'em : 
Life's  cup  is  nectar  at  the  brink, 
Midway  a  palatable  drink,  . 

And  wormwood  at  the  bottom.' 

"This  is  not  quite  reconcilable  with  a  remark 
he  once  made  to  the  writer,  that  if  he  could  go  back 
to  any  former  period  of  his  life,  he  would  prefer 
going  back  to  forty.  He  was  about  that  age  when 
he  first  came  into  celebrity. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  117 

"  On  the  occasion  of  another  visit  to  Chigwell  he 
•wrote  thus : — 

'  "World,  in  thy  ever  busy  mart, 
Tve  acted  no  unnoticed  part. 

Would  I  resume  it  ?     Oh,  no  I 
Four  acts  are  done — the  jest  grows  stale, 
The  -waning  lamps  burn  dim  and  pale, 

And  reason  asks — eui  bono  ¥  " 

One  of  the  happiest,  and  assuredly  the  most  profit- 
able, of  epigrams  ever  made,  was  written  by  Smith. 
Happening  one  day  to  meet  at  dinner  Mr.  Strahan, 
an  old  gentleman  much  impaired  in  health,  but  still 
preserving  his  mental  powers  in  all  their  vigour,  he 
sent  him  the  following  lines : — 

"  Tour  lower  limbs  seemed  far  from  stoat, 

When  last  I  saw  you  walk ; 
The  cause  I  presently  found  out, 
When  you  began  to  talk. 

"  The  power  that  props  the  body's  length, 

In  due  proportion  spread, 
In  you  mounts  upwards,  and  the  strength 
All  settles  in  your  head." 

This  pleased  Mr.  Strahan  so  much,  that  he  made 
an  immediate  codicil  to  his  will,  leaving  Smith  £3000. 

"  But  Mr.  Smith's  happiest  effort,"  says  Barham, 
"  was  inclosed  in  a  short  note  to  .his  friend  Count 
D'Orsay  :— 

27  Craven-street,  Monday,  June  6. 

"  MY  DEAR  COUNT — "Will  you  give  me  Gallic  im- 
mortality by  translating  the  subjoined  into  French. 

Sincerely  yours,  &c. 


118  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

PIUS   ..ENEAS. 

'  Virgil,  whose  magic  verse  enthralls, — 

And  who  in  verse  is  greater  ? 
By  turns  his  wand'ring  hero  calls, 

Now  plus,  and  now  pater. 
But  when  prepared  the  worse  to  brave, 

An  action  that  must  pain  us, 
Queen  Dido  meets  him  in  the  cave, 

He  dubs  him  Dux  TKOJANUS. 
And  well  he  changes  thus  the  word 

On  that  occasion,  sure 
Pius  .^ENEAS  were  absurd, 

And  FATES,  premature.'  " 

CLEVER  PUN. 

An  actor,  named  Priest,  was  playing  at  one  of  the 
principal  theatres.  Some  one  remarked,  at  the  Gar- 
rick  Club,  that  there  were  a  great  many  men  in  the 
pit.  "Probably  clerks,  who  have  taken  Priest's  or- 
ders," said  Mr.  Poole,  one  of  the  best  punsters,  as 
well  as  one  of  the  cleverest  comic  satirists  of  the 
day. 

WIT    AND    LEARNING. 

Wit  is  often  found  united  with  great  learning ; 
three  of  the  most  learned  men  that  have  ever  lived, 
have  been  three  of  the  wittiest — Cervantes,  Eabelais, 
Butler. 

HUMOUR   AND    GENIUS. 

Men  of  humour  are,  in  some  degree,  men  of  ge- 
nius :  wits  are  rarely  so,  although  a  man  of  genius 
may,  amongst  other  gifts,  possess  wit — as  Shakspeare. 
—  Coleridge. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  119 

PRISON   RETIREMENT. 

Since  the  benevolent  Howard  attacked  our  prisons, 
incarceration  has  "become  not  only  healthy,  but  ele- 
gant; and  a  county  jail  is  precisely  the  place  to 
which  any  pauper  might  wish  to  retire,  to  gratify  his 
taste  for  magnificence  as  well  as  for  comfort.  Upon 
the  same  principle,  there  is  some  risk  that  transpor- 
tation will  be  considered  as  one  of  the  surest  roads  to 
honour  and  wealth;  and  that  no  felon  will  hear  a 
verdict  of  "not  guilty"  without  considering  himself 
as  cut  off  in  the  fairest  career  of  prosperity. — Sydney 
Smith. 

TREASON. 

Home  Tooke,  on  being  asked  by  a  foreigner  of 
distinction,  how  much  treason  an  Englishman  might 
venture  to  write,  without  being  hanged,  replied,  that 
"  he  could  not  inform  him  just  yet,  but  that  he  was 
trying." 

BOOK    MADNESS. 

A  collector  of  scarce  books,  was  one  day  showing 
me  his  small  but  curious  hoard.  "Have  you  ever 
seen  a  copy  of  this  book  ?"  he  asked,  with  every  vol- 
ume that  he  put  into  my  hands ;  and  when  my  reply 
was,  that  I  had  not,  he  always  rejoined,  with  a  look 
and  tone  of  triumphant  delight,  "  I  should  have  been 
exceedingly  sorry  if  you  had  1" — The  Doctor. 

ENGLISH   FRENCH. 

The  author  of  Eothen,  after  relating  his  conversa- 


120  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

tion  with  a  Frenchman  at  Cairo,  says:  "These  an- 
swers of  mine,  as  given  above,  are  not  meant  for 
specimens  of  mere  French,  but  of  that  fine,  terse, 
nervous,  Continental  English,  with  which  I  and  my 
compatriots  make  our  way  through  Europe.  This 
language,  by-the-bye,  is  one  possessing  great  force 
and  energy,  and  is  not  without  its  literature — a  lite- 
rature of  the  very  highest  order.  Where  will  you 
find  more  sturdy  specimens  of  downright  honest  and 
noble  English,  than  in  the  Duke  of  "Wellington's 
'French'  dispatches?" 

PARASITES. 

Nature  descends  down  to  infinite  smallness.  A 
great  man  has  his  parasites ;  and  if  you  take  a  large 
buzzing  blue-bottle  fly,  and  look  at  it  in  a  micro- 
scope," you  may  see  twenty  or  thirty  little  ugly  in- 
sects crawling  about  it,  which,  doubtless,  think  their 
fly  to  be  the  bluest,  grandest,  merriest,  most  import- 
ant animal  in  the  universe;  and  are  convinced  the 
world  would  be  at  an  end  if  it  ceased  to  buzz. — Syd- 
ney Smith. 


CHARLES   LAMB. 


Lamb  never  affected  any  spurious  gravity.  Nei- 
ther did  he  ever  act  the  Grand  Senior.  He  did  not 
exact  that  common  copy-book  respect,  which  some 
asinine  persons  would  fain  command,  on  account  of 
the  mere  length  of  their  years ;  as  if,  forsooth,  what 
is  bad  in  itself,  could  be  the  better  for  keeping ;  as  if 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  121 

intellects  already  raotlyery,  got  any  thing  but  grand- 
motfiery  by  lapse  of  time ! — Hood. 

VARIETIES  OF  THE  HUMAN  RACE. 

Lady  Mary  Wortley  Montague  said,  that  during 
all  her  travels  she  had  never  met  with  but  three 
kinds  of  persons,  Men,  Women,  and  Herveys,  These 
were  the  earls  of  Bristol,  a  family  noted  for  their  ec- 
centricity. 

JOHN   KEMBLE. 

I  always  had  a  great  liking,  I  may  say,  a  sort  of 
nondescript  reverence,  for  John  Kemble,  What  a 
quaint  creature  he  was!  I  remember  a  party,  in 
which  he  was  discussing,  in  his  measured  manner  af- 
ter dinner,  when  the  steward  announced  his  carriage. 
He  nodded,  and  went  on.  The  announcement  took 
place  twice  afterward;  Kemble  each  time  nodding 
his  head  a  little  more  impatiently,  but  still  going  on. 
At  last,  and  for  the  fourth  time,  the  steward  entered 
and  said,  "  Mrs.  Kemble  says,  sir,  she  has  the  rheu- 
mafo'se  and  cannot  stay."  "  Add  ism  /"  dropped  John, 
in  a  parenthesis,  and  proceeded  quietly  in  his  ha- 
rangue. 

Kemble  would  correct  any  body  at  any  time,  and 
in  any  place.  Dear  Charles  Matthews — a  true  genius 
in  his  line,  in  my  judgment — told  me  that  he  was 
once  performing  privately  before  the  king.  The 
king  was  very  much  pleased  with  the  imitation  of 

11 


122  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

Kemble,  and  said,  "  I  liked  Kemble  very  muck.  He 
was  one  of  my  earliest  friends.  I  remember  once 
he  was  talking,  and  found  himself  out  of  snuff.  I 
offered  him  my  box.  He  declined  taking  any — '  He, 
a  poor  actor,  could  not  put  his  fingers  into  a  royal 
box.'  I  said,  'take  some,  pray;  you  will  obleege 
me!'  Upon  which  Kemble  replied,  'It  would  be- 
come your  royal  mouth  better  to  say,  oblige  me;' 
and  took  a  pinch." — Coleridge's  Table-Talk. 

INFLUENCE    OF   WOMEN. 

Man  is  but  a  rough  pebble,  without  the  attrition 
received  from  contact  with  the  gentler  sex :  it  is  won- 
derful how  the  ladies  pumice  a  man  down  into  a 
smoothness  which  occasions  him  to  roll  over  and  over 
with  the  rest  of  his  species,  jostling  but  not  wound- 
ing his  neighbours,  as  the  waves  of  circumstances 
bring  him  into  collision  with  them. — Copt.  Marry  at. 

FRENCHMEN. 

Coleridge  says  of  the  French,  that  they  are  like 
grains  of  gunpowder,  each  by  itself  smutty  and  con- 
temptible; but  mass  them  together,  and  they  are 
terrible  indeed. 

SIR    JAMES    MACKINTOSH. 

The  first  points  of  character  which  every  body 
noticed  in  Mackintosh,  were  the  total  absence  of 
envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  uncharitableness.  He  could 
not  hate,  he  did  not  know  how  to  set  about  it.  The 
gall-bladder  was  omitted  in  his  composition,  and  if 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  123 

he  could  have  been  persuaded  into  any  scheme  of 
revenging  himself  upon  an  enemy,  I  am  sure  (unless 
he  had  been  narrowly  watched)  it  would  have  ended 
in  proclaiming  the  good  qualities,  and  promoting  the 
interests  of  his  adversary. 

Till  subdued  by  age  and  illness,  his  conversation 
was  more  brilliant  and  instructive  than  that  of  any 
human  being  I  ever  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  ac- 
quainted with.  His  memory  (vast  and  prodigious  as 
it  was)  he  so  managed  as  to  make  it  a  source  of  pleas- 
ure and  instruction,  rather  than  that  dreadful  engine 
of  colloquial  oppression  into  which  it  is  sometimes 
erected.  He  remembered  things,  words,  thoughts, 
dates,  and  every  thing  that  was  wanted.  His  language 
was  beautiful,  and  might  have  gone  from  the  fireside 
to  the  press ;  but  though  his  ideas  were  always  clothed 
in  beautiful  language;  the  clothes  were  sometimes  too 
big  for  the  body,  and  common  thoughts  were  dressed 
in  better  and  larger  apparel  than  they  deserved.  He 
certainly  had  this  fault,  but  it  was  not  one  of  fre- 
quent commission. 

Sir  James  had  a  good  deal  of  humour ;  and  I  re- 
member, amongst  many  other  examples  of  it,  that  he 
kept  us  for  two  or  three  hours  in  a  roar  of  laughter, 
at  a  dinner-party  at  his  own  house,  playing  upon  the 
simplicity  of  a  Scotch  cousin,  who  had  mistaken  me 
for  my  gallant  synonym,  the  hero  of  Acre.  I  never 
saw  a  more  perfect  comedy,  nor  heard  ridicule  so 
long  and  so  well  sustained.  Sir  James  had  not  only 
humour,  but  he  had  wit  also ;  at  least,  new  and  sud- 


124  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

den  relations  of  ideas  flashed  across  his  mind  in  rea- 
soning, and  produced  the  same  effect  as  wit,  and 
would  have  been  called  wit,  if  a  sense  of  their  utility 
and  importance  had  not  often  overpowered  the  admi- 
ration of  novelty,  and  entitled  them  to  the  higher 
name  of  wisdom.  Then  the  great  thoughts  and  fine 
sayings  of  the  great  men  of  all  ages  were  intimately 
present  to  his  recollection,  and  came  ou/  dazzling 
and  delighting  in  his  conversation.  Justness  of 
thinking  was  a  strong  feature  in  his  understanding ; 
he  had  a  head  in  which  nonsense  and  error  could 
hardly  vegetate :  it  was  a  soil  utterly  unfit  for  them. 
Curran,  the  master  of  the  rolls,  said  to  Mr.  Grattan, 
"  You  would  be  the  greatest  man  of  your  age,  if  you 
would  buy  a  few  yards  of  red  tape,  and  tie  up  your 
bills  and  papers."  This  was  the  fault  or  misfortune 
of  Sir  James  Mackintosh  ;  he  never  knew  the  use  of 
red  tape,  and  was  utterly  unfit  for  the  common  busi- 
ness of  life.  That  a  guinea  represented  a  quantity 
of  shillings,  and  that  it  would  barter  for  a  quantity 
of  cloth,  he  was  well  aware ;  but  the  accurate  num- 
ber of  the  baser  coin,  or  the  just  measurement  of  the 
manufactured  article  to  which  he  was  entitled  for  his 
gold,  he  could  never  learn,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
teach  him.  Hence  his  life  was  often  an  example  of 
the  ancient  and  melancholy  struggle  of  genius,  with 
the  difficulties  of  existence. — Sydney  Smith. 

HAPPINESS. 

If  you  cannot  be  happy  in  one  way,  be  happy  in 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  125 

another;  and  this  facility  of  disposition  wants  but 
little  aid  from  philosophy,  for  health  and  good-hu- 
.mour  are  almost  the  whole  affair.  Many  run  about 
after  felicity,  like  an  absent  man  hunting  for  his  hat, 
while  it  is  on  his  head,  or  in  his  hand. — Sharp.  "These 
persons  want  nothing  to  make  them  the  happiest  people 
in  the  world  but  the  knowledge  that  they  are  so." 


A    SHE    FOOL. 


Lord  Burleigh,  in  a  capital  letter  of  advice  to  his 
son  Robert  Cecil,  advises  him  never  to  "  choose  a  base 
and  uncomely  creature  altogether  for  wealth ;  for  it 
will  cause  contempt  in  others,  and  loathing  in  thee. 
Neither  make  choice  of  a  dwarf  or  a  fool ;  for  by  the 
one  thou  shalt  beget  a  race  of  pigmies ;  the  other  will 
be  thy-  continual  disgrace ;  and  it  will  yirk  thee  to 
hear  her  talk.  For  thou  shalt  find  it,  to  thy  great 
griefj  that  there  is  nothing  more  fulsome  than  a  she 
fool" 

LORD    CHIEF   JUSTICE    HOLT. 

When  Holt  was  Lord  Chief  Justice,  he  committed 
some  enthusiasts  to  prison.  The  next  day,  one  Lacy, 
who  was  of  the  same  persuasion,  went  to  his  house, 
and  asked  to  speak  to  him.  The  porter  answered,  his 
lordship  was  not  well,  and  could  not  be  seen.  Lacy 
insisted  that  he  must  see  him,  for  he  was  sent  to  him 
by  the  Lord.  When  this  message  was  delivered,  he 
obtained  admittance.  "  I  come,"  said  he,  "  from  the 
Lord,  commanding  thee  to  grant  a  noli  prosequi  to  his 
11* 


126  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

faithful  servants,  whom  thou  hast  unjustly  committed 
to  prison."  "  Thou  canst  not,  certainly,  have  come 
from  the  Lord,"  replied  Holt ;  "  for  he  would  have 
sent  thee  to  the  Attorney-General,  knowing  very  well 
that  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  grant  thy  demand. 
Therefore,  thou  art  a  false  prophet ;  and  thou  shalt 
go  and  keep  thy  friends  company  in  prison." 


PEDANTRY. 


As  I  take  it,  the  word  is  not  properly  used :  be- 
cause pedantry  is  the  too  frequent  or  unseasonable 
obtruding  our  own  knowledge  in  common  discourse, 
and  placing  too  great  a  value  upon  it ;  by  which  defi- 
nition, men  of  the  court,  or  of  the  army,  may  be  as 
guilty  of  pedantry  as  a  philosopher  or  a  divine  ;  and 
it  is  the  same  vice  in  women,  when  they  are  over 
copious  upon  the  subject  of  their  petticoats,  or  their 
fans,  or  their  china. — Swift. 


SLEEPING    IN    CHURCH. 


Many  stories  have  been  related  of  Swift,  tending 
to  show  his  utter  disregard  of  all  decorum  in  matters 
of  religion,  and  among  the  rest  one  that  has  obtained 
universal  belief,  and  which  deserves  to  be  killed  off. 
This  is  an  absurd  story  of  his  having  one  day  found 
no  one  present  at  morning  service  but  himself  and 
the  clerk,  Eoger  Coxe,  and  commencing,  "Dearly 
beloved  Eoger,  the  Scripture  moveth  us  in  sundry 
places,  to  acknowledge  and  confess  our  manifold  sins 
and  wickedness;"  and  so  proceeding  through  the 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  127 

service.  The  -whole  of  this  story  is  untrue,  no  such, 
scene  ever  occurred.  It  seems  to  have  been  an  in- 
vention of  Lord  Orrery  to  discredit  the  dean's  respect 
for  religion.  Swift's  nephew  said  he  had  seen  it  in 
an  old  jest-book  printed  about  the  year  1560 ;  proba- 
bly all  the  other  stories  of  the  same  nature  may  be 
disposed  of  in  a  like  manner. 

The  following  extract,  however,  is  from  a  sermon 
actually  preached  by  Swift  in  the  cathedral  at  Dub- 
lin, with  the  text  from  Acts  xx.  9:  "And  there  sat 
in  the  window  a  certain  young  man,  named  Eutychus, 
being  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep ;  and  while  Paul  was 
long  preaching,  he  sunk  down  from  sleep,  and  fell 
down  from  the  third  loft,  and  was  taken  up  dead." 
Swift  then  proceeds  to  say,  "I  have  chosen  these 
words  with  a  design,  if  possible,  to  disturb  some 
part  of  this  audience  of  half  an  hour's  sleep,  for  the 
convenience  and  exercise  whereof  this  place,  at  this 
season  of  the  day,  is  very  much  celebrated. 

"There  is,  indeed,  one  mortal  disadvantage  to 
which  all  preaching  is  subject;  that  those  who  by 
the  wickedness  of  their  lives  stand  in  the  greatest 
need  have  usually  the  smallest  share ;  for  either  they 
are  absent  upon  account  of  idleness,  or  spleen,  or  ha- 
tred to  religion,  or  in  order  to  doze  away  the  intem- 
perance of  the  week ;  or,  if  they  do  come,  they  are 
sure  to  employ  their  minds  any  other  way  than 
regarding  or  attending  to  the  business  of  the  place. 

"  The  accident  which  happened  to  the  young  man 
in  the  text,  hath  not  been  sufficient  to  discourage  his 


128  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

successors;  but,  because  the  preachers  now  in  the 
world  however  they  do  exceed  St.  Paul  in  the  art  of 
setting  men  to  sleep,  do  extremely  fall  short  of  him 
in  the  working  of  miracles;  therefore  men  are  be- 
come so  cautious  as  to  choose  more  safe  and  conve- 
nient stations  and  postures  for  taking  their  repose, 
without  hazard  of  their  persons ;  and  upon  the  whole 
matter,  choose  rather  to  trust  their  destruction  to  a 
miracle,  than  their  safety." 

THE    THEATRE. 

There  is  something  in  the  word  Playhouse  which 
seems  so  closely  connected,  in  the  minds  of  some 
people,  with  sin  and  Satan,  that  it  stands  in  their 
vocabulary  for  every  species  of  abomination.  And 
yet  why?  Where  is  every  feeling  more  roused  in 
favor  of  virtue  than  at  a  good  play?  Where  is 
goodness  so  feelingly,  so  enthusiastically  learned? 
What  so  solemn  as  to  see  the  excellent  passions  of 
the  human  heart  called  forth  by  a  great  actor,  ani- 
mated by  a  great  poet?  To  hear  Siddons  repeat 
what  Shakspeare  wrote?  To  behold  the  child  and 
his  mother — the  noble  and  the  poor  artisan — the 
monarch  and  his  subjects — all  ages  and  all  ranks 
convulsed  with  one  common  passion — wrung  with 
one  common  anguish,  and,  with  loud  sobs  and  cries, 
doing  involuntary  homage  to  the  God  that  made 
their  hearts  I  What  wretched  infatuation  to  inter- 
dict such  amusements  as  these!  What  a  blessing 
that  mankind  can  be  allured  from  sensual  gratifica- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  129 

tion,  and  find  relaxation  and  pleasure  in  such  pur- 
suits ! — Sydney  Smith. 

HINT    TO    AUTHORS. 

If  I  might  give  a  short  hint  to  an  impartial  writer, 
it  would  be  to  tell  him  his  Site.  If  he  resolved  to 
venture  upon  the  dangerous  precipice  of  telling  un- 
biassed truth,  let  him  proclaim  war  with  mankind — 
neither  to  give  nor  to  take  quarter.  If  he  tells  the 
crimes  of  great  men,  they  fall  upon  him  with  the  iron 
hands  of  the  law;  if  he  tells  them  of  virtues,  when 
they  have  any,  then  the  mob  attacks  him  with  slan- 
der. But  if  he  regards  truth,  let  him  expect  martyr- 
dom on  both  sides,  and  then  he  may  go  on  fearless ; 
and  this  is  the  course  I  take  myself. — De  Foe. 

SUCCESS   IN   LIFE. 

Half  the  failures  in  life  arise  from  pulling  in  one's 
horse  as  he  is  leaping. — Guesses  at  Truth. 

FINE    SPEAKING. 

It  is  an  admirable  thing  to  see  how  some  people 
will  labour  to  find  out  terms  that  may  obscure  a  plain 
sense,  like  a  gentleman  I  know,  who  would  never 
say  the  weather  grew  cold,  but  that  winter  began  to 
salute  us :  I  have  no  patience  with  such  coxcombs. — 
Lady  Temple. 

VOLTAIRE. 

M.  de  Saint  Ange,  translator  of  the  Metamorphoses 
of  Ovid,  was  noted  for  a  certain  languishing  and 


130  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

mawkish,  air  in  his  conversation  and  deportment ; 
having  been,  like  every  other  member  of  the  literary 
world,  to  pay  his  respects  to  Voltaire,  and  being  am- 
bitious of  concluding  his  visit  with  some  stroke  of 
genius,  said,  twirling  his  hat  prettily  between  his 
thumbs :  "  I  am  only  come  to-day,  sir,  to  see  Homer ; 
another  day  I  shall  come  to  see  Euripides  and  Sopho- 
cles, afterward  Tacitus,  and  then  Lucian."  "Sir" 
answered  Homer,  "lam  very  old,  could  you  not  make 
all  the  visits  at  once?" — Grimm's  Memoirs. 

I! 

The  proudest  word  in  English,  to  judge  of  its  way 
of  carrying  itself,  is  /.  It  is  the  least  of  monosyl- 
lables, if  it  be  indeed  a  syllable :  yet  who  in  good 
society  ever  saw  a  little  one.  Indeed,  this  big  one- 
lettered  pronoun  is  quite  peculiar  to  John  Bull ;  as 
much  so  as  Magna  Charta,  with  which,  perchance,  it 
may  not  be  altogether  unconnected.  At  least,  it  cer- 
tainly is  an  apt  symbol  of  the  national  character,  both 
in  some  of  its  nobler  and  of  its  harsher  features.  In 
it  you  may  discern  the  Englishman's  freedom,  his 
unbending  firmness,  his  straightforwardness,  his  indi- 
viduality of  character ;  you  may  also  see  his  self- 
importance,  his  arrogance,  his  opinionativeness,  his 
propensity  to  separate  and  seclude  himself  from  his 
neighbours,  and  to  look  down  on  all  mankind  with 
contempt.  Look  at  four  Englishmen  in  a  stage- 
coach :  the  odds  are,  they  will  be  sitting  as  stiff  and 
as  unsociable  as  four  /'s. — Guesses  at  Truth. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  131 

THE    ART    OP    HAPPINESS. 

Sharp  gives  us  the  true  method  to  be  happy: 
"  The  chief  secret  of  comfort,  lies  in  not  suffering 
trifles  to  vex  one,  and  in  prudently  cultivating  an 
undergrowth  of  small  pleasures,  since  very  few  great 
ones,  alas !  are  let  on  long  leases." 

USE    AND    ABUSE. 

A  certain  authoress  interdicts  cards  and  assemblies. 
No  cards,  because  cards  are  employed  in  gaming ;  no 
assemblies,  because  many  dissipated  persons  pass  their 
lives  in  .assemblies.  Carry  this  but  a  little  further, 
and  we  must  say,  no  wine,  because  of  drunkenness ; 
no  meat,  because  of  gluttony ;  no  use,  that  there  may 
be  no  abuse  ! — Sydney  Smith. 

THE    MIDDLE    STATION. 

My  father  bade  me  observe  it,  and  I  should  always 
find  that  the  calamities  of  life  were  shared  among  the 
upper  and  lower  part  of  mankind;  but  that  the 
middle  station  had  the  fewest  disasters,  and  was  not 
exposed  to  so  many  vicissitudes  as  the  higher  or 
lower  part  of  mankind ;  nay,  they  were  not  subject 
to  so  many  distempers  and  uneasiness,  either  of  body 
or  mind,  as  those  were  who  by  vicious  living,  luxury, 
and  extravagances,  on  one  hand,  or  by  hard  labour, 
want  of  necessaries,  and  mean  or  insufficient  diet,  on 
the  other  hand,  bring  distempers  upon  themselves  by 
the  natural  consequences  of  their  way  of  living ;  that 
the  middle  station  of  life  was  calculated  for  all  kind 


132  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

of  virtues  and  all  kind  of  enjoyments;  that  peace 
and  plenty  were  the  handmaids  of  a  middle  fortune  ; 
that  temperance,  moderation,  quietness,  health,  society, 
all  agreeable  diversions,  and  desirable  pleasures,  were 
the  blessings  attending  the  middle  station  of  life ;  that 
this  way  men  went  silently  and  smoothly  through  the 
world,  and  comfortably  out  of  it,  not  embarrassed 
with  the  labours  of  the  hand  or  the  head,  not  sold  to 
a  life  of  slavery  for  daily  bread,  or  harassed  with 
perplexed  circumstances,  which  rob  the  soul  of  peace, 
and  the  body  of  rest ;  nor  enraged  by  the  passion  of 
envy,  or  the  secret  burning  lust  of  ambition  for  great 
things ;  but  in  easy  circumstances,  sliding  gently 
through  the  world,  and  sensibly  tasting  the  sweets 
of  living,  without  the  bitter;  feeling  that  they  are 
happy,  and  learning  by  every  day's  experience  to 
know  it  more  sensibly. — Robinson  Crusoe. 

SIR   WILLIAM    TEMPLE   AND   LORD   BROUNCKER. 

Sir  William  Temple  and  Lord  Brouncker,  the 
President  of  the  Royal  Society,  being  neighbours  in 
the  country,"  had  frequently  very  sharp  contentions  ; 
like  other  great  men,  one  would  not  bear  an  equal, 
and  the  other  would  not  admit  of  a  superior.  Lord 
Brouncker  was  a  great  admirer  of  curiosities,  of  which 
he  had  a  very  good  collection,  which  Sir  William 
Temple  used  to  undervalue  on  all  occasions,  dispar- 
aging every  thing  of  his  neighbour's,  and  giving  his 
own  things  the  preference.  This  by  no  means  pleased 
his  lordship,  who  took  all  opportunities  of  being  re- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  133 

venged.  One  day,  as  they  were  discoursing  together 
of  their  several  rarities,  Brouncker  replied  to  him  very 
seriously  and  gravely :  "  Sir  William,  say  no  more  of 
the  matter ;  you  must  at  length  yield  to  me,  I  having 
lately  got  something  which  it  is  impossible  for  you  to 
obtain,  for  my  Welsh  steward  has  sent  me  a  flock  of 
geese  ;  and  these  are  what  you  can  never  have,  since 
all  your  geese  are  swans" 

MISCELLANEOUS   WRITING. 

Peace  be  with  the  soul  of  that  charitable  and 
courteous  author,  who,  for  the  common  benefit  of 
his  fellow-authors,  introduced  the  ingenious  way  of 
miscellaneous  writing ! — Shaftesbury. 

CONVERSATION. 

Conversation  must  and  ought  to  grow  out  of  ma- 
terials on  which  men  can  agree,  not  upon  subjects 
which  try  the  passions. — Sydney  Smitfi. 

A  companion  that  feasts  the  company  with  wit 
and  mirth,  and  leaves  out  the  sin  which  is  usually 
mixed  with  them,  he  is  the  man ;  and  let  me  tell  you, 
good  company  and  good  discourse  are  the  very 
sinews  of  virtue. — Izaak  Walton. 

Surely  one  of  the  best  rules  in  conversation,  is 
never  to  say  a  thing  which  any  of  the  company  can 
reasonably  wish  we  had  rather  left  unsaid. — Swift. 

It  is  a  secret  known  but  to  few,  yet  of  no  small 
use  in  the  conduct  of  life,  that  when  you  fall  into  a 

12 


134  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

man's  conversation,  the  first  thing  that  you  should 
consider  is,  whether  he  has  a  greater  inclination  to 
hear  you,  or  that  you  should  hear  him. — Steele. 

Conversation  is  a  traffic ;  and  if  you  enter  into  it 
without  some  stock  of  knowledge  to  balance  the  ac- 
count perpetually  betwixt  you,  the  trade  drops  at 
once. — Sterne. 

The  most  necessary  talent  in  a  man  of  conversa- 
tion, is  a  good  judgment. — Steele. 

The  wit  of  conversation  consists  more  in  finding  it 
in  others,  than  in  showing  a  great  deal  yourself;  he 
who  goes  from  your  conversation  pleased  with  him- 
self and  his  own  wit,  is  perfectly  well  pleased  with 
you. — La  Bruytlre. 

A  general  fault  in  conversation,  is  that  of  those 
who  affect  to  talk  of  themselves.  Some,  without  any 
ceremony,  will  run  over  the  history  of  their  lives ; 
will  relate  the  annals  of  their  diseases,  with  the  seve- 
ral symptoms  and  circumstances  of  them;  will  enum- 
erate the  hardships  and  injustice  they  have  suffered  in 
court,  in  parliament,  in  love,  or  in  law.  Others  are 
more  dexterous,  and  with  great  art  will  he  on  the 
watch  to  hook  in  their  own  praise.  They  will  call  a 
witness  to  remember,  they  always  foretold  what 
would  happen  in  such  a  case,  but  none  would  believe 
them ;  they  advised  such  a  man  from  the  beginning, 
and  told  him  the  consequences,  just  as  they  hap- 
pened, but  he  would  have  his  own  way.  Others 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  135 

make  a  vanity  of  telling  their  faults;  they  are  the 
strangest  men  in  the  world ;  they  cannot  dissemble ; 
they  own  it  is  a  folly ;  they  have  lost  abundance  of 
advantages  by  it ;  but  if  you  would  give  them  the 
world,  they  cannot  help  it;  there  is  something  in 
their  nature  that  abhors  insincerity  and  constraint; 
with  many  other  insufferable  topics  of  the  same  alti- 
tude.— Swift. 


FLATTERING   EPITAPHS. 


Charles  Lamb,  when  a  little  boy,  walking  in  a 
church-yard  with  his  sister,  and  reading  the  epitaphs, 
said  to  her,  "  Mary,  where  are  all  the  naughty  people 
buried?" 


VOLUMINOUS   AUTHORS. 


There  is  an  event  recorded  in  the  Bible,  which 
men  who  write  books,  should  keep  constantly  in  their 
remembrance.  It  is  there  set  forth,  that  many  cen- 
turies ago,  the  earth  was  covered  with  a  great  flood, 
by  which  the  whole  of  the  human  race,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  one  family,  were  destroyed.  It  appears, 
also,  that  from  thence,  a  great  alteration  was  made 
in  the  longevity  of  mankind,  who,  from  a  range  of 
seven  or  eight  hundred  years,  which  they  enjoyed 
before  the  flood,  were  confined  to  their  present  period 
of  seventy  or  eighty  years.  This  epoch  in  the  his- 
tory of  man,  gave  birth  to  the  two-fold  division  of 
the  antediluvian  and  postdiluvian  style  of  writing, 
the  latter  of  which  naturally  contracted  itself  into 


136  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

those  inferior  limits  which  were  better  accommodated 
to  the  abridged  duration  of  human  life  and  literary- 
labour.  Now,  to  forget  this  event — to  write  without 
the  fear  of  the  deluge  before  his  eyes,  and  to  handle 
a  subject  as  if  mankind  could  lounge  over  a  pamphlet 
for  ten  years,  as  before  their  submersion — is  to  be 
guilty  of  the  most  grievous  error  into  which  a  writer 
can  possibly  fall. — Sydney  Smith. 

SIR   HENRY    WOTTON. 

The  following  beautiful,  but  not  enough  known 
verses,  were  written  by  Sir  Henry  Wotton  on  his 
"  dear  mistress,"  Elizabeth,  queen  of  Bohemia, 
daughter  of  James  the  First,  and  for  whom  he  bore 
such  an  extraordinary  respect  as  to  give  away  a  val- 
uable diamond,  presented  to  him  by  the  emperor  of 
Germany,  because  it  "  came  from  an  enemy  to  his 
Royal  Mistress,  the  queen  of  Bohemia." 

"  You  meaner  beauties  of  the  night, 

That  poorly  satisfy  our  eyes 
More  by  your  number  than  your  light, 
You  common  people  of  the  skies ; 
What  are  you  when  the  sun  shall  rise  3 

You  curious  chanters  of  the  wood, 
That  warble  forth  dame  Nature's  lays, 

Thinking  your  voices  understood 
By  your  weak  accents ;  what  your  praise, 
When  Philomel  her  voice  shall  raise  ? 

You  violets  that  first  appear, 

By  your  pure  purple  mantles  known, 
Like  the  proud  virgins  of  the  year, 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  137 

As  if  the  spring  -were  all  your  own; 
What  are  you  when  the  rose  is  blown  I 

So  when  my  mistress  shall  be  seen, 

In  form  and  beauty  of  her  mind, 
By  virtue  first,  then  choice  a  Queen, 

Tell  me,  if  she  were  not  designed 

The  eclipse  and  glory  of  her  kind  I" 

ENGLISH   AND   FRENCH    SUICIDES. 

There  is  an  absurd  and  ancient  accusation  against 
us,  which  ought,  by  this  time,  to  be  known  by  our 
accusers,  the  French,  to  be  unfounded  on  fact,  viz. : 
our  unequalled  propensity  to  suicide.  That  offence  is 
far  more  frequent  among  the  French  themselves  than 
with  us.  In  the  year  1816,  the  number  of  suicides 
committed  in  London  amounted  to  seventy-two;  in 
the  same  year,  at  Paris,  they  amounted  to  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty-eight,  (not  taking  into  account  the 
number  of  unfortunates  exposed  at  the  Morgue,)  the 
population  of  Paris  being  some  400,000  less  than  that 
of  London !  But  suicides,  if  not  unequalled  in  num- 
ber by  those  of  other  countries,  are  indeed  frequent 
with  us,  and  so  they  always  will  be  in  countries 
where  men  can  be  reduced  in  a  day  from  affluence  to 
beggary.  The  loss  of  fortune  is  the  general  cause  of 
the  voluntary  loss  of  life.  Wounded  pride, — disap- 
pointment,— the  schemes  of  an  existence  laid  in  the 
dust, — the  insulting  pity  of  friends, — the  humbled 
despair  of  all  our  dearest  connections  for  whom  per- 
haps we  toiled  and  wrought, — the  height  from  which 
we  have  fallen, — the  impossibility  of  regaining  what 
12* 


138  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

we  have  lost, — the  searching  curiosity  of  the  public, 
• — the  petty  annoyance  added  to  the  great  woe, — all 
rushing  upon  a  man's  mind  in  the  sudden  convulsion 
and  turbulence  of  its  elements,  what  wonder  that  he 
welcomes  the  only  escape  from  the  abyss  into  which 
he  has  been  hurled. 

If  the  Spaniards  rarely  commit  suicides,  it  is  be- 
cause they,  neither  a  commercial  nor  gambling  peo- 
ple, are  not  subject  to  such  reverses.  "With  the 
French  it  is  mostly  the  hazard  of  dice,  with  the  En- 
glish, the  chances  of  trade  that  are  the  causes  of  this 
melancholy  crime — melancholy,  for  it  really  deserves 
that  epithet  with  us.  We  do  not  set  about  it  with 
the  mirthful  gusto  which  characterizes  the  felo  de  se 
in  the  Frenchman's  native  land.  We  have  not  yet 
among  our  numerous  clubs,  instituted  a  club  of  sui- 
cides, all  sworn  to  be  the  happiest  dogs  possible,  and 
not  outli ve  the  year  1  These  gentlemen  ask  you  to 
see  them  "go  off,"  as  if  death  were  a  place  in  the 
malleposte.  "  Will  you  dine  with  me  to-morrow,  my 
dear  Dubois  ?" 

"  With  the  greatest  pleasure ;  yet  now  I  think  of 
it,  I  am  particularly  engaged  to  shoot  myself;  I  am 
really  au  desespoirl  but  one  can't  get  off  such  an 
engagement  you  know." 

"  I  would  not  ask  such  a  thing,  my  dear  fellow. 
Adieu !  By  the  way  if  you  ever  come  back  to  Paris 
again,  I  have  changed  my  lodgings,  au  plaisir  I " 

Exeunt  the  two  friends;  the  one  twirling  his 
moustaches,  the  other  humming  an  opera  tune. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  139 

This  gayety  of  suicidalism,  is  not  the  death  a  la 
mode  with  us ;  neither  are  we  so  sentimental  in  these 
delicate  matters,  as  our  neighbours  over  the  water. 
We  do  not  shoot  each  other  by  way  of  being  roman- 
tic. Ladies  and  gentlemen  forced  to  "part  compa- 
ny," do  not  betake  themselves  "to  a  retired  spot," 
and  tempt  the  dread  unknown,  by  a  brace  of  pistols, 
tied  up  with  cherry-coloured  ribbons. — England  and 
the  English. 

ODDS   AND   ENDS. 

A  dinner  of  fragments  is  often  said  to  be  the  best 
dinner.  So  are  there  few  minds  but  might  furnish 
some  instruction  and  entertainment  out  of  their 
scraps,  their  odds  and  ends  of  thoughts.  They  who 
cannot  weave  a  uniform  web,  may  at  least  produce  a 
piece  of  patchwork. — Guesses  at  Truth. 

TRUE    RICHES. 

Providence  has  decreed,  that  those  common  ac- 
quisitions— money,  gems,  plate,  noble  mansions,  and 
dominion,  should  be  sometimes  bestowed  on  the  in- 
dolent and  unworthy;  but  those  things  which  con- 
stitute our  true  riches,  and  which  are  properly  our 
own,  must  be  procured  by  our  own  labour. — Erasmus. 

ENJOYING    AND    POSSESSING. 

When  I  walk  the  streets,  I  use  the  following  nat- 
ural maxim,  viz. :  that  he  is  the  true  possessor  of  a 
thing  who  enjoys  it,  and  not  he  that  owns  it  without 


140  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

the  enjoyment  of  it,  to  convince  myself  that  I  have  a 
property  in  the  gay  part  of  all  the  gilt  chariots  that 
I  meet,  which  I  regard  as  amusements  designed  to 
delight  my  eyes,  and  the  imagination  of  those  kind 
people  who  sit  in  them  gayly  attired  only  to  please 
me.  I  have  a  real,  and  they  only  have  an  imaginary 
pleasure  from  their  exterior  embellishments.  Upon 
the  same  principle,  I  have  discovered  that  I  am  the 
natural  proprietor  of  all  the  diamond  necklaces,  the 
crosses,  stars,  brocades,  and  embroidered  clothes,  which 
I  see  at  a  play  or  birthnight,  as  giving  more  natural 
delight  to  the  spectator  than  to  those  that  wear  them. 
And  I  look  on  the  beaux  and  ladies  as  so  many 
paroquets  in  an  aviary,  or  tulips  in  a  garden,  designed 
purely  for  my  diversion.  A  gallery  of  pictures,  a 
cabinet,  or  library,  that  I  have  free  access  to,  I  think 
my  own.  In  a  word,  all  that  I  desire  is  the  use  of 
things,  let  who  will  have  the  keeping  of  them.  By 
which  maxim,  I  am  grown  one  of  the  richest  men  in 
Great  Britain ;  with  this  difference,  that  I  am  not  a 
prey  to  my  own  cares,  or  the  envy  of  others. — 
Berkeley. 


BUTTS. 


A  man  is  not  qualified  for  a  butt,  who  has  not  a 
good  deal  of  wit  and  vivacity,  even  in  the  ridiculous 
side  of  his  character.  A  stupid  butt  is  only  fit  for 
the  conversation  of  ordinary  people — men  of  wit  re- 
quire one  that  will  give  them  play,  and  bestir  himself 
in  the  absurd  part  of  his  behaviour.  A  butt  with 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  141 

these  accomplishments  frequently  gets  the  laugh  on 
his  side,  and  turns  the  ridicule  upon  him  that  attacks 
him.  Sir  John  Falstaff  was  a  hero  of  this  species, 
and  gives  a  good  description  of  himself  after  the 
capacity  of  a  butt,  after  the  following  manner:  "Men 
of  all  sorts,"  says  that  merry  knight,  "take  a  pride  to 
gird  at-  me.  The  brain  of  man  is  not  able  to  invent 
any  thing  that  tends  to  laughter  more  than  I  invent, 
or  is  invented  on  me.  I  am  not  only  witty  in  my- 
self but  the  cause  that  wit  is  in  other  men." — Steele. 

SOURCE    OF    CONCEIT. 

All  affectation  and  display  proceed  from  the  sup- 
position of  possessing  something  better  than  the  rest 
of  the  world  possesses.  Nobody  is  vain  of  possessing 
two  legs  and  two  arms ;  because  that  is  the  precise 
quantity  of  either  sort  of  limb  which  every  body 
possesses. — -Sydney  Smith. 


GENTLEMAN. 


A  very  expressive  word  in  our  language,  a  word 
denoting  an  assemblage  of  many  real  virtues,  and  a 
union  of  manners  at  once  pleasing  and  commanding 
respect. — Charles  Butler. 

There  exists  in  England,  a  gentlemanly  character, 
a  gentlemanly  feeling,  very  different  even  from  that 
which  is  the  most  like  it — the  character  of  a  well- 
born Spaniard — and  unexampled  in  the  rest  of  Eu- 
rope.— Coleridge. 


142  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

A  gentleman  is  a  Christian  in  spirit  that  will  take  a 
polish.  The  rest  are  but  plated  goods ;  and  however 
excellent  their  fashion,  rub  them  more  or  less,  the  base 
metal  will  appear  through. —  Walker. — The  Original. 


HORRORS    OF    SEASICKNESS. 


"Mind  cannot  conceive,"  says  Matthews,  in  his 
very  entertaining  "Diary  of  an  Invalid,"  after  inform- 
ing us  of  his  state  on  board  ship,  "nor  imagination 
paint  the  afflicted  agonies  of  this  state  of  suffering. 
I  am  surprised  the  poets  have  made  no  use  of  it  in 
their  descriptions  of  the  place  of  torment ;  for  it 
might  have  furnished  an  excellent  hint  for  improving 
the  punishment  of  their  hells.  What  are  the  waters 
of  Tantalus,  or  the  stone  of  Sisyphus,  when  compared 
with  the  throes  of  seasickness  ? 

"  The  depression  and  despondency  of  spirit  which 
accompany  this  sickness,  deprive  the  mind  of  all  its 
energy,  and  fill  up  the  last  trait  in  the  resemblance, 
by  taking  away  even  the  consolations  of  hope — that 
last  resource  of  the  miserable — which  comes  to  all, 
but  the  damned  and  the  seasick." 


EMPHATIC    OATH. 


Some  time  after  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
the  deputies  sent  by  those  of  the  reformed  religion 
were  treating  with  the  king,  the  queen-mother,  and 
some  of  the  council  for  a  peace.  The  articles  were 
mutually  agreed  upon ;  and  they  were  debating  on 
what  should  be  the  security  for  the  performance  of 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  143 

these  articles.  After  some  particulars  had  been  pro- 
posed and  rejected,  the  queen-mother  said,  "  Is  not 
the  word  of  a  king  sufficient  security  ?"  One  of  the 
deputies  answered,  "No,  madam,  by  St.  Bartholo- 
mew." 

MEN   AND   BEASTS. 

I  should  be  very  sorry  to  do  injustice  to  the  poor 
brutes,  who  have  no  professors  to  revenge  their  cause 
by  lecturing  on  our  faculties ;  and  at  the  same  time  I 
know  there  is  a  very  strong  anthropological  party, 
who  view  all  eulogisms  on  the  brute  creation  with  a 
very  considerable  degree  of  suspicion,  and  look  upon 
every  compliment  which  is  paid  to  the  ape  as  high 
treason  to  the  dignity  of  man. 

There  may,  perhaps,  be  more  of  rashness  and  ill- 
fated  security  in  my  opinion,  than  of  magnanimity  or 
liberality ;  but  I  confess  I  feel  myself  so  much  at  my 
ease  about  the  superiority  of  mankind — I  have  such 
a  marked  and  decided  contempt  for  the  understanding 
of  every  baboon  I  have  yet  seen — I  feel  so  sure  that 
the  blue  ape  without  a  tail  will  never  rival  us  in 
poetry,  painting,  and  music,  that  I  see  no  reason 
whatever  why  justice  may  not  be  done  to  the  few 
fragments  of  soul  and  tatters  of  understanding  which 
they  may  really  possess.  I  have  sometimes,  perhaps, 
felt  a  little  uneasy  at  Exeter  'Change,  from  contrasting 
the  monkeys  with  the  'prentice-boys  who  are  teazing 
them ;  but  a  few  pages  of  Locke,  or  a  few  lines  of 
N  Milton,  have  always  restored  me  to  tranquillity,  and 


144  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

convinced  me  that  the  superiority  of  man  had  nothing 
to  fear. — Sydney  Smith. 

POPE    AND    GARRICK. 

Grarrick's  first  theatrical  appearance  was  in  1741, 
not  long  before  the  death  of  Pope,  who  was  then  in  a 
weak  and  declining  state.  The  poet  had,  however, 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  in  one  of  his  principal 
characters,  and  was  "boundless  in  his  praise  of  the 
actor.  "  I  am  afraid  that  that  young  man  will  be 
spoiled,"  said  he,  "  for  he  will  never  have  a  competitor." 

Grarrick  gives  the  following  interesting  account  of 
the  occasion  upon  which  Pope  was  present  at  the 
theatre,  when  he  was  to  play  the  part  of  King 
Richard : 

"  When  I  was  told  that  Pope  was  in  the  house,  I 
instantaneously  felt  a  palpitation  at  my  heart ;  a 
tumultuous,  not  a  disagreeable  emotion  in  my  mind. 
I  was  then  in  the  prime  of  youth,  and  in  the  zenith 
of  my  theatrical  ambition.  It  gave  me  particular 
pleasure  that  Eichard  was  my  character,  when  Pope 
was  to  see  and  hear  me.  As  I  opened  my  part,  I 
saw  our  little  poetical  hero,  dressed  in  black,  seated 
in  a  side  box  near  the  stage,  and  viewing  me  with  a 
serious  and  earnest  attention.  His  look  shot  and 
thrilled,  like  lightning,  through  my  frame ;  and  I  had 
some  hesitation  in  proceeding,  from  anxiety  and  from 
joy.  As  RICHARD  gradually  blazed  forth,  the  house 
was  in  a  roar  of  applause,  and  the  aspiring  hand  of 
POPE  shadowed  me  with  laurels." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  145 


OPPOSITE    MINDS. 

If  black  and  white  men  live  together,  the  conse- 
quence is,   that   unless   great   care  be  taken  they 
quarrel   and    fight.      There  is   nearly   as   strong  a 
disposition  in  men  of  opposite  minds  to  despise  each 
other.     A  grave  man  cannot  conceive  what  is  the 
use  of  a  wit  in  society  ;  a  person  who  takes  a  strong 
common-sense  view  of  a  subject,  is  for  pushing  out 
by  the  head  and  shoulders  an  ingenious  theorist  who 
catches  at  the  lightest  and  faintest  analogies;   and 
another  man,  who  scents  the  ridiculous  from  afar, 
will  hold  no  commerce  with  him  who  tastes  exqui- 
sitely the  fine  feelings  of  the  heart,  and  is  alive  to 
nothing  else ;   whereas  talent  is  talent,  and  mind  is 
mind,  in  all  its  branches !     Wit  gives  to  life  one  of 
its  best  flavours ;  common  sense  leads  to  immediate 
action,  and  gives  society  its  daily  motion ;  large  and 
comprehensive  views,  its  annual  rotation;    ridicule 
chastises  folly  and  imprudence,  and  keeps  men  "in 
their  proper  sphere ;  subtlety  seizes  hold  of  the  fine 
threads  of  truth ;    analogy  darts  away  to  the  most 
sublime  discoveries;  feeling  paints  all  the  exquisite 
passions  of  man's  soul,  and  rewards  him  by  a  thou- 
sand inward  visitations  for  the  sorrows  that  come 
from  without !     God  made  it  all !     It  is  all  good ! 
We  must  despise  no  sort  of  talent:    they  all  have 
their  separate  duties  and  uses;  all  the  happiness  of 
man  for  their  object ;  they  all  improve,  exalt,  and 
gladden  life. — Sydney  &mith. 

13 


146  AFTEB-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

MASCULINENESS   AND    EFFEMINACY. 

Men  ought  to  be  manly  ;  women  ought  to  be  wo- 
manly or  feminine.  They  are  sometimes  masculine, 
which  men  cannot  be ;  but  only  men  can  be  effemi- 
nate :  for  masculineness  and  eifeminacy  imply  the 
palpable  predominance  in  one  sex,  of  that  which  is 
the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  other. — Guesses  at 
Truth. 


TALLEYRAND. 


Talleyrand's  sayings — his  mots,  as  the  French 
have  it — are  renowned;  but  these,  alone,  convey  an 
imperfect  idea  of  his  whole  conversation.  They  show, 
indeed,  the  powers  of  his  wit,  and  the  felicity  of  his 
concise  diction ;  and  they  have  a  peculiarity  of  style, 
such  that,  if  shown  without  a  name,  no  one  could  be 
at  a  loss  to  whom  he  should  attribute  them.  But 
they  are  far  enough  from  showing  the  style  of  his 
conversation  to  those  who  have  never  heard  it.  A 
gentleman  in  company  was  one  day  making  a  some- 
what zealous  eulogy  of  his  mother's  beauty,  dwelling 
on  the  topic  at  uncalled-for  length — he  himself  hav- 
ing, certainly,  inherited  no  portion  of  that  kind  under 
the  marriage  of  his  parents.  "  C'e'tait,  done,  mon- 
sieur votre  pere  qui  apparemment  n'etait  pas  trop 
bien,"  was  the  remark  which  at  once  released  the 
circle  from  the  subject.  When  Madame  de  Stael 
published  her  celebrated  novel  of  Delphine,  she  was 
supposed  to  have  painted  herself  in  the  person  of  the 
heroine,  and  M.  Talleyrand  in  that  of  an  elderly  lady, 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  147 

who  is  one  of  the  principal  characters.  "  On  me  dit, 
(said  he,  the  first  time  he  met  her,)  que  nous  sommes 
tons  les'  deux  dans  votre  roman  ddguises  en  femme." 
Rubhieres,  the  celebrated  author  of  the  work  on  the 
Polish  Ee volution,  having  said,  "  Je  n'ai  fait  qu'un 
mechancete'  de  ma  vie."  "Et  quand  finira-t-elle?" 
was  M.  Talleyrand's  reply.  "  Geneve  est  ennuyeuse, 
n'est-ce  pas?"  asked  a  friend.  "Surtout  quand  on  s'y 
amuse,"  was  the  answer.  "  Elle  est  insupportable," 
(said  he,  with  a  marked  emphasis,  of  one  well  known ; 
but  as  if  he  had  gone  too  far,  and  to  take  something 
off  of  what  he  laid  on,  he  added,)  "  Elle  n'a  que  ce 
defaut-la."  "Ah,  je  sens  les  tourmens  d'enfer,"  said  a 
person,  whose  life  had  been  supposed  to  be  somewhat 
of  the  loosest.  "  Deja  ?"  was  the  inquiry  suggested 
by  M.  Talleyrand. — Brougham. 

There  is  an  anecdote  recorded  of  Talleyrand, 
which  shows  that  he  not  only  could  say  witty  things, 
but  also  could  do  them.  Upon  Charles  the  Tenth's 
death,  he  drove  for  a  few  days  about  Paris,  carrying 
a  piece  of  crape  in  his  pocket ;  when  he  came  by  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  Carlists,  the  crape  was  taken 
out  and  tied  around  his  hat,  and  when  he  arrived  at 
the  quarter  of  the  Tuilleries,  he  again  slipped  off  the 
crape,  and  put  it  in  his  pocket. 

STORY-TELLING. 

I  would  advise  all  professors  of  the  art  of  story- 
telling, never  to  tell  stories  but  as  they  seem  to  grow 
out  of  the  subject-matter  of  the  conversation,  or  as 


148  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

they  serve  to  illustrate,  or  enliven  it.  Stories  that 
are  very  common,  are  generally  irksome ;  but  may 
be  aptly  introduced,  provided  they  be  only  hinted  at, 
and  mentioned  by  way  of  allusion.  Those  that  are 
altogether  new,  should  never  be  ushered  in,  without 
a  short  and  pertinent  character  of  the  chief  persons 
concerned,  because,  by  that  means,  you  may  make 
the  company  acquainted  with  them ;  and  it  is  a  cer- 
tain rule,  that  slight  and  trivial  accounts  of  those  who 
are  familiar  to  us,  administer  more  mirth  than  the 
brightest  points  of  wit  in  unknown  characters.  A 
little  circumstance  in  the  complexion  or  dress  of  the 
man  you  are  talking  of,  sets  his  image  before  the 
hearer,  if  it  be  chosen  aptly  for  the  story. — Steek. 

LIFE. 

Democritus  was  a  wiser  man  than  Heraclitus. 
Those  are  the  wisest,  and  the  happiest,  who  can  pass 
through  life  as  a  play ;  who,  without  making  a  farce 
of  it,  and  turning  every  thing  into  ridicule,  consider 
the  whole  period  from  the  cradle  to  the  coffin,  as  a 
well-bred  comedy ;  and  maintain  a  cheerful  smile  to 
the  very  last  scene.  For  what  is  happiness  but  a 
Will-o'-the-wisp — a  delusion — a  terra-incognita — in 
pursuit  of  which  thousands  are  tempted  out  of  the 
harbour  of  tranquillity,  to  be  tossed  about,  the  sport 
of  the  winds  of  passion  and  the  waves  of  disappoint- 
ment, to  be  wrecked  perhaps  at  last  on  the  rocks  of 
despair ;  unless  they  be  provided  with  the  sheet-an- 
chor of  religion — the  only  anchor  that  will  hold  in 


AFTER    DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  149 

all  weathers.  This  is  a  very  stupid  allegory,  but  it 
was  preached  to  me  this  morning  by  a  beautiful  piece 
of  sculpture  which  I  saw.  A  female  figure  of  Hope 
has  laid  aside  her  anchor,  and  is  feeding  a  monstrous 
chimosra.  The  care  and  solicitude  of  Hope  in  tend- 
ing this  frightful  creature,  are  most  happily  ex- 
pressed ;  and  the  general  effect  is  so  touching,  that  it 
illustrates  Shakspeare's  phrase  of  sermons  in  stones 
with  great  felicity. — Matthews. 

ROGUES. 

Few  people  think  better  of  others  than  of  them- 
selves, nor  do  they  readily  allow  the  existence  of  any 
virtue  of  which  they  perceive  no  traces  in  their  own 
minds ;  for  which  reason  it  is  next  to  impossible  to 
persuade  a  rogue  that  you  are  an  honest  man ;  nor 
would  you  ever  succeed  by  the  strongest  evidence, 
was  it  not  for  the  comfortable  conclusion  which  the 
rogue  draws,  that  he  who  proves  himself  honest, 
proves  himself  a  fool  at  the  same  time. — Fielding. 

INDUSTRY. 

It  is  better  to  wear  out  than  to  rust  out. — Cum- 
berland. We  must  not  only  strike  the  iron  while  it 
is  hot,  but  strike  it  till  "  it  is  made  hot." — Sharp. 

"WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME." 

There  are  not  a  few  of  the  best  and  most  humane 
Englishmen  of  the  present  day,  who,  when  under  the 
influence  of  fear  or  anger,  would  think  it  no  great 
13* 


150  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

crime  to  put  to  death  people  whose  names  begin  with 

0  or  Mac.     The  violent  death  of  Smith,  Green,  or 
Thomson,  would  throw  the  neighbourhood  into  con- 
vulsions, and  the  regular  forms  would  be  adhered 
to — but  little  would  be  really  thought  of  the  death 
of  any  body  called  O'Dogherty  or  O'Toole. — Sydney 
Smith.  -  V'"j 

COOKERY   AND   ASTRONOMY. 

M.  Henrion  de  Pensey,  president  of  the  Court  of 
Cassation,  expressed  himself  as  follows,  to  three  of  the 
most  distinguished  men  of  science  of  their  day :  "I 
regard  the  discovery  of  a  dish  as  a  far  more  interest- 
ing event  than  the  discovery  of  a  star,  for  we  have 
always  stars  enough,  but  we  can  never  have  too 
many  dishes ;  and  I  shall  not  regard  the  sciences  as 
sufficiently  honoured  or  adequately  represented,  until 

1  see  a  cook  in  the  first  class  of  the  Institute." 

NAPOLEON. 

The  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  character  of 
this  strange  being  is  his  inconsistency ;  displaying  as 
he  does,  at  different  times,  the  most  opposite  ex- 
tremes of  great  and  little — magnificence  and  mean- 
ness. This  inconsistency,  however,  is  sufficiently 
explained  by  his  utter  want  of  fixed  principles  of 
right  and  wrong.  What  can  be  expected  of  him  who 
laughs  at  religion,  and  does  not  even  possess  a  sense 
of  honour  to  keep  him  steady  in  the  path  of  great- 
ness ?  Selfishness  seems  to  have  been  the  foundation 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  251 

of  his  system,  the  only  principle  which  he  acknowl- 
edged ;  and  this  will  reconcile  all  the  apparent  incon- 
sistencies of  his  conduct  Every  thing  was  right  to 
him  that  conduced  to  his  own  interest,  by  any  means, 
however  wrong ;  and  as  his  mind  seems  to  have  had 
the  power  of  expanding  with  his  situation,  so  it  had 
an  equal  power  of  contracting  again ;  and  he  could  at 
once  descend  from  the  elevation  of  his  throne,  to  the 
pettiest  considerations  connected  with  his  altered  con- 
dition, accommodating  himself  in  a  moment,  to  all 
the  variations  of  fortune.  In  a  word,  he  was  the 
Garrick  of  the  great  stage  of  the  world,  who  could 
play  in  the  Imperial  Tragedy — carrying  terror  and 
pity  into  all  bosoms — and  reappearing  in  the  part  of 
Scrub,  in  the  after-piece,  with  equal  truth  and  fidelity 
of  representation.  "We  might  admire  the  equanimity 
of  such  a  temperament,  if  we  did  not  find  it  associa- 
ted with  such  a  selfish  and  exclusive  attention  to  his 
own  personal  safety,  as  robs  it  of  all  claims  to  our  ap- 
plause. After  all,  he  is  a  truly  extraordinary  being 
— a  wonderful  creature,  furnishing  the  most  curious 
subject  for  examination  to  those  who,  abstractedly 
from  all  the  national  and  political  feelings  of  the 
present  time,  can  consider  him  merely  as  a  singular 
phenomenon,  an  anomalous  variety  in  the  strange 
history  of  human  nature. — Matthews. 

NARROW-MINDED    PERSONS. 

A  narrow-minded  person  has  not  a  thought  be- 
yond the  little  sphere  of  his  own   vision.     "The 


152  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

snail,"  say  the  Hindoos,  "  sees  nothing  but  his  own 
shell,  and  thinks  it  the  grandest  palace  in  the  uni- 
verse."— Sydney  Smith. 

COLERIDGE'S  NOTES  IN  BOOKS. 

It  was  the  custom  of  Coleridge  whenever  he  read  a 
book,  to  write  down  any  thought,  &c.,  which  might  oc- 
cur to  him  while  thus  engaged, 'no  matter  to  whom  the 
volume  might  belong,  or  whither  it  was  bound ;'  and 
he  appears  to  have  deposited  on  their  margins  and 
blank  leaves,  "as  in  a  confessional,  the  deepest,  light- 
est, strangest,  and,  alas !  saddest  of  his  mental  work- 
ings." 

Some  of  these  notes  are  curious;  in  one  of  the 
books  which  he  had  borrowed  from  Charles  Lamb,  (a 
copy  of  Donne's  poems,)  he  writes  as  follows:  "I  shall 
die  soon,  my  dear  Charles  Lamb,  and  then  you  will 
not  be  angry  that  I  have  bescribbled  your  book. — S. 
T.  C.,  2d  May,  1811." 

His  friend  alludes  to  this  practice,  in  one  of  the 
most  delightful  of  his  essays,  "The  Two  Kaces  of 
Men:" — "To  lose  a  volume  to  Coleridge,"  says  Lamb, 
"carries  some  sense  and  meaning  in  it.  You  are 
sure  that  he  will  make  one  hearty  meal  on  your 
viands,  if  he  can  give  you  no  account  of  the  platter 

after  it Eeader,  if  haply  thou  art  blessed 

with  a  moderate  collection,  be  shy  of  showing  it ;  or 
if  thy  heart  overfloweth  to  lend  them,  lend  thy 
books,  but  let  it  be  to  such  a  one  as  S.  T.  C.— he  will 
return  them  (generally  anticipating  the  time  appoint- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  153 

ed)  with  usury;  enriched  with  annotations,  tripling 
their  value.  I  have  had  experience.  Many  are 
these  precious  MMS.  of  his,  (in  matter  oftentimes, 
and  almost  in  quantity,  not  unfrequently  vying  with 
the  originals,)  in  no  very  clerkly  hand,  legible  in  my 
Daniel;  in  old  Burton;  in  Sir  Thomas  Browne; 
and  those  abtruser  cogitations  of  the  Greville,  now, 
alas !  wandering  in  Pagan  lands." 


VOLTAIRE  S    SEAL -BOOK. 


Voltaire  was  in  the  habit  of  keeping  a  book  in 
which  he  pasted  the  seals  of  all  his  correspondents, 
and  underneath  each  wrote  the  address  of  the  person 
whose  it  happened  to  be.  Whenever  he  received  a 
letter,  he  would  examine  and  ascertain  from  whence 
it  came,  by  referring  to  his  book;  and  if  it  came 
from  a  quarter  he  did  not  like,  he  replaced  it  in  an- 
other envelope,  and  returned  it  unopened  to  the 
writer. 

SERVANTS. 

"  This  class  of  persons,"  says  Ude,  "  assimilate  no 
little  to  cats,  enjoying  what  they  can  pilfer,  but  very 
difficult  to  please  in  what  is  given  to  them." 

EXAGGERATION. 

The  passion  of  laughter,  the  strongest  effect  of 
ludicrous  impressions,  seems  to  be  produced  by  the 
intensity,  or  more  properly  the  excess  of  pleasurable 
ideas :  circum  praecordia  ludere,  is  the  proper  charac- 
ter of  this  class  of  emotions.  Thus  a  certain  degree 


154  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

of  fullness  improves  the  figure,  but  if  it  be  so  in- 
creased to  excessive  fatness,  it  becomes  risible.  So, 
in  the  qualities  of  the  mind,  modesty  is  agreeable — 
extreme  bashfulness  is  ridiculous:  we  are  amused 
with  vivacity — we  laugh  at  levity.  If  we  observe  the 
conversation  of  a  professed  jester,  it  will  appear  that 
his  great  secret  consists  in  exaggeration.  This  is  also  the 
art  of  caricaturists;  add  but  a  trifling  degree  of  length 
or  breadth  to  the  features  of  an  agreeable  face,  and 
they  become  ludicrous.  In  a  like  manner,  unbolster 
Falstaff,  and  his  wit  will  affect  us  less,  the  nearer  he 
approaches  to  the  size  of  a  reasonable  man. — Ferriar. 

ITALIAN    DINNEB. 

Matthews  thus  describes  a  dinner  in  Italy  at  which 
he  was  present :  "  Dined  to-day  with  an  Italian  fam- 
ily, to  whom  I  had  brought  letters  of  recommenda- 
tion from  Eome.  This  was  the  first  occasion  that 
I  have  had  of  seeing  an  Italian  dress  dinner ;  but 
there  was  scarcely  any  thing  strange  to  excite  re- 
mark. The  luxury  of  the  rich  is  nearly  the  same 
throughout  Europe.  Some  trifling  peculiarities  struck 
me,  though  I  think  the  deviations  from  our  own 
customs  were  all  improvements.  There  was  no  for- 
mal top  and  bottom  to  the  table,  which  was  round, 
and  the  host  could  not  be  determined  from  his  place. 
All  the  dishes  were  removed  from  the  table  as  they 
were  wanted,  carved  by  a  servant  at  the  sideboard 
and  handed  round.  Each  person  was  provided  with 
a  bottle  of  wine  and  a  bottle  of  water,  as  with  a 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  155 

plate  and  knife  and  fork.  There  was  no  asking  to 
drink  wine,  nor  drinking  of  healths,  no  inviting  to 
eat  nor  carving  for  them.  All  these  duties  devolved 
on  the  domestics;  and  the  conversation,  which,  in 
England,  as  long  as  the  dinner  lasts,  is  often  con- 
fined to  the  business  of  eating,  with  all  its  important 
auxiliaries  of  sauces  and  seasonings,  took  its  free 
course,  unchecked  by  any  interruptions  arising  out 
of  the  business  in  hand.  This  is  surely  the  perfec- 
tion of  comfort — to  be  able  to  eat  and  drink  what 
you  please  without  exciting  attention  or  remark — 
and  I  cannot  but  think  it  would  be  a  great  improve- 
ment upon  our  troublesome  fashion  of  passing  ilie 
bottle,  to  substitute  the  Italian  mode  of  placing  a 
separate  decanter  to  each  person." 

LORD    NORTH. 

Lord  North's  wit  was  never  surpassed,  and  it  was 
attended  with  this  singular  quality,  that  it  never  gave 
offence,  and  the  object  of  it  was  sure  to  join  with 
pleasure  in  the  laugh.  The  assault  of  Mr.  Adam  on 
Mr.  Fox,  and  of  Colonel  Fullarton  on  Lord  Shel- 
burne,  had  once  put  the  house  into  the  worst  possi- 
ble humour,  and  there  was  more  or  less  of  savageness 
in  every  thing  that  was  said.  Lord  North  depreca- 
ted the  too  great  readiness  to  take  offence,  which 
then  seemed  to  possess  the  house.  "One  member," 
he  said,  "who  spoke  of  me,  called  me,  'that  thing 
called  a  minister;'  to  be  sure,"  he  said,  patting  his 
large  form,  "I  am  a  thing;  the  member,  therefore, 


156  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

when  he  called  me  a  thing,  said  what  was  true ;  and 
I  could  not  be  angry  with  him  ;  but,  when  he  added, 
that  thing  called  a  minister,  he  called  me  the  thing, 
which  of  all  things,  he  himself  wished  most  to  be ; 
and,  therefore,"  said  Lord  North,  "I  took  it  as  a 
compliment."  These  good-natured  sallies  dropped 
from  him  incessantly. — Charles  Butler. 


JOHN  BULL. 


There  is  nothing  which  an  Englishman  enjoys 
more  than  the  pleasure  of  sulkiness — of  not  being 
forced  to  hear  a  word  from  any  body  which  may 
occasion  to  him  the  necessity  of  replying.  It  is  not 
so  much  that  Mr.  Bull  disdains  to  talk,  as  that  Mr. 
Bull  has  nothing  to  say.  His  forefathers  have  been 
out  of  spirits  for  six  or  seven  hundred  years,  and 
seeing  nothing  but  fog  and  vapour  he  is  out  of  spirits 
too ;  and  when  there  is  no  selling  or  buying,  or  no 
business  to  settle,  he  prefers  being  alone  and  looking 
at  the  fire.  If  any  gentleman  was  in  distress,  he 
would  lend  a  helping  hand ;  but  he  thinks  it  no  part 
of  good  neighbourhood  to  talk  to  a  person  because 
he  happens  to  be  near  him.  In  short,  with  many 
excellent  qualities,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the 
English  are  the  most  disagreeable  of  the  nations  of 
Europe — more  surly  and  morose,  with  less  disposition 
to  please,  to  exert  themselves  for  the  good  of  society, 
to  make  small  sacrifices,  and  to  put  themselves  out 
of  their  way.  They  are  content  with  Magna  Charta 
and  trial  by  jury;  and  think  they  are  not  bound  to 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  157 

excel  the  rest  of  the  world  in  small  behaviour,  if 
they  are  superior  to  them  in  great  institutions. — 
Sydney  Smith. 

A    COLD. 

"Do  you  know  what  it  is,"  asked  Lamb  of  Ber- 
nard Barton,  describing  his  own  state,  "to  succumb 
under  an  insurmountable  daymare — '  a  whoreson 
lethargy,'  Falstaff  calls  it — an  indisposition  to  do  any 
thing,  or  to  be  any  thing — a  total  deadness  and  dis- 
taste— a  suspension  of  vitality — an  indifference  to 
locality — a  numb  soporifical  good-for-nothingness — 
an  ossification  all  over — an  oysterlike  indifference  to 
passing  events — a  mind-stupor — a  brawny  defiance 
to  the  needles  of  a  thrjisting-in  conscience — with  a 
total  irresolution  to  submit  to  water-gruel  processes  ?" 

"  SIXTY   YEARS    SINCE." 

The  late  Mr.  Huddlestone,  an  amiable  and  accom- 
plished gentleman,  believed  himself  to  be  lineally 
descended  from  Athelstane,  and  consequently  enti- 
tled to  take  precedence  of  all,  including  the  proudest 
nobles,  who  did  not  equally  partake  of  the  blood- 
royal  of  the  heptarchy.  Some  of  this  excellent 
person's  evidences  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  those 
of  the  Scotchman,  who,  in  proof  of  his  own  descent 
from  the  Admirable  Crichton,  was  wont  to  produce 
an  ancient  shirt  marked  A.  C.  in  the  tail,  preserved, 
he  said,  as  an  heir-loom  by  the  family ;  but  Mr.  Hud- 
dlestone's  pedigree  was  admitted,  and  Huddlestone 

14 


158  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

allowed  to  be  an  undeniable  corruption  of  Athelstane 
by  many  of  the  distinguished  amateur  readers  of 
Gwyllim ;  amongst  others  by  the  late  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, who  was  sufficiently  tenacious  on  such  points. 
•  These  two  originals  often  met  over  a  bottle  to  discuss 
the  respective  pretensions  of  their  pedigrees,  and  on 
one  of  these  occasions,  when  Mr.  Huddlestone  was 
dining  with  the  duke,  the  discussion  was  prolonged 
till  the  descendant  of  the  Saxon  kings,  fairly  rolled 
from  his  chair  upon  the  floor/  One  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  family  hastened,  by  the  duke's  de- 
sire, to  re-establish  him,  but  he  sturdily  repelled  the 
proffered  hand  of  the  cadet — "  Never,"  he  hiccuped 
out,  "  shall  it  be  said  that  the  head  of  the  house  of 
Huddlestone  was  lifted  from  tjie  ground  by  a  younger 
branch  of  the  house  of  Howard."  "  "Well,  then,  my 
good  old  friend,"  said  the  good-natured  duke,  "  I  must 
try  what  I  can  do  for  you  mysell"  The  head  of  the 
house  of  Howard  is  too  drunk  to  pick  up  the  head  of 
the  house  of  Huddlestone,  but  he  will  lie  down  be- 
side him  with  all  the  pleasure  in  the  world :"  so  say- 
ing, the  duke  also  took  his  place  upon  the  floor.  The 
concluding  part  of  this  anecdote  has  been  plagiarized 
and  applied  to  other  people ;  but  the  authenticity  of 
our  version  may  be  relied  upon. — Quarterly  Review. 

PLEAS. 

Except  at  Jerusalem,  never  think  of  attempting  to 
go  to  sleep  in  a  "holy  city."  Old  Jews  from  all 
parts  of  the  world  go  to  lay  their  bones  upon  the  sa- 


AFTER-DINNEB,     TABLE-TALK.  159 

cred  soil,  and  as  these  people  never  return  to  their 
homes,  it  follows  that  any  domestic  vermin  which 
they  may  bring  with  them  are  likely  to  become  per- 
manently resident,  so  that  the  population  is  continu- 
ally increasing.  No  recent  census  had  been  taken 
when  I  was  at  Tiberias,  but  I  know  that  the  congre- 
gation of  fleas  which  attended  at  my  church  alone, 
must  have  been  something  enormous.  It  was  a  carnal, 
self-seeking  congregation,  wholly  inattentive  to  the 
service  which  was  going  on,  and  devoted  to  the  one 
object,  of  having  my  blood.  The  fleas  of  all  nations 
were  there.  The  smug,  steady,  importunate  flea  from 
Holywell-street ;  the  pert,  jumping  "puce,"  from 
hungry  France;  the  wary,  watchful  "pulce,"  with 
his  poisoned  stiletto;  the  vengeful  "pulga,"  of  Cas- 
tile, with  his  ugly  knife;  the  German  "floh,"  with 
his  knife  and  fork — insatiate — not  rising  from  table ; 
whole  swarms  from  all  the  Eussias,  and  Asiatic 
hordes  unnumbered :  all  these  were  ther£,  and  all  re- 
joiced in  one  great  international  feast.  I  could -no 
more  defend  myself  against  my  enemies,  than  if  I  had 
been  "pain  a  discretion,"  in  the  hands  of  a  French 
patriot. — Eothen. 


THE    PENITENTS. 


At  Padre  Caravita's,  during  Lent,  the  friars  dress 
in  sackcloth,  trimmed  with  ashes ;  lights  are  put  out, 
£qgl  every  penitent,  credits  himself  to  heaven  some 
dozen  lashes,,  (the  walls  and  pillars  getting  all  the 
slashes,)  the  flogger  setting  up  a  pious  moan,  at  every 


160  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

item  of  the  bill  lie  cashes ;  still  -working  desperately 
at  the  stone,  but  giving  not  a  touch  to  his  own 
flesh  and  bone.  One  evening,  as  they  sung  their 
"  miserere,"  with  half  the  city  listening  at  the  door, 
(I  think  this  famous  chorus  dull  and  dreary,)  was 
heard  a  yell  within,  'twas  soon  a  roar,  then  a  pitched 
battle  on  the  holy  floor ;  screams  to  the  Virgin,  howls 
to  every  saint !  All  thought  the  Fiend  had  come  to 
claim  his  score;  the  men  began  to  fly,  the  sex  to 
faint.  And  still  the  battle  raged,  the  howls  came 
thicker ;  matters  seemed  looking  black  for  "  Church 
and  State."  Up  marched  the  pursy  guards  of  Rome's 
"  Grand  Yicar,"  heroes  not  much  inclined  to  tempt 
their  fate,  for  not  a  soul  of  them  would  touch  the 
gate.  At  last,  out  burst  the  penitents  all  whipped, 
roaring  at  this  new  payment  of  "Church  Rate." 
The  truth  transpired — an  Englishman,  equipped  in 
cowl  and  gown,  through  the  padre's  door  had  slipped. 
He  waited  till  the  holy  farce  began ;  all  stripped,  all 
dark ;  not  even  a  taper's  smoke :  then,  marking  a  fat 
friar  for  his  man,  and  taking  a  stout  horsewhip  from 
his  cloak,  on  his  broad  back  he  laid  a  hearty  stroke ! 
the  victim  shrieked,  as  if  he  felt  a  sabre ;  John  Bull 
amazingly  enjoyed  the  joke,  proceeding  all  the  mum- 
mers to  belabour,  while  each  revenged  the  stripes 
upon  his  naked  neighbour ! — The  Modern  Orlando. 

PLEASURES    OF    OLD    AGE. 

One  forenoon  I  did  prevail  with  my  mother,  to  let 
them  carry  her  to  a  considerable  distance  from  the 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  161 

house,  to  a  sheltered,  sunny  spot,  whereunto  we  did 
often  resort,  formerly  to  hear  the  wood-pigeons  which 
frequented  the  fir-trees  thereabouts.  We  seated  our- 
selves and  did  pass  an  hour  or  two  very  pleasantly. 
She  remarked  how  merciful  it  was  ordered,  that  these 
pleasures  should  remain  to  the  last  days  of  life ;  that 
when  the  infirmities  of  age  make  the  company  of 
others  burdensome  to  us,  and  ourselves  a  burden  to 
them,  the  quiet  contemplation  of  the  works  of  God 
affords  a  simple  pleasure  which  needeth  naught  else 
than  a  contented  mind  to  enjoy ;  the  singing  of  birds, 
even  a  single  flower,  or  a  pretty  spot  like  this,  with 
its  bank  of  primroses,  and  the  brook  running  in  there 
below,  and  this  warm  sunshine,  how  pleasant  they  are. 
They  take  back  our  thoughts  to  our  youth,  which  age 
doth  love  to  look  back  upon. — Diary  of  Lady  Wil- 
loughby. 

FRIGHTFUL    TO   THINK   OF. 

An  injudicious  adherent  of  Mr.  Percival,  the  col- 
league of  Canning,  having  mentioned  drugs  among 
the  articles  to  be  intercepted  by  the  English  ships, 
in  order  to  make  the  French  more  disposed  for  peSce, 
the  opportunity  which  it  offered  to  Sydney  Smith  for 
displaying  his  powers  of  ridicule,  was  too  tempting  to 
be  lost,  and  he  has  thus  "shown  up"  the  affair,  in  the 
"  Letters  of  Peter  Plymley :" 

"  What  a  sublime  thought,"  exclaims  Peter,  "  that 
no  purge  can  now  be  taken  between  the  Weser  and 
the  Garonne ;  that  the  bustling  pestle  is  still,  the  can- 
orous mortar  mute,  and  the  bowels  of  mankind  lock- 
14* 


162  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

ed  tip  for  fourteen  degrees  of  latitude!  When,  I 
should  be  curious  to  know,  were  all  the  powers  of 
crudity  and  flatulence  fully  explained  to  his  majesty's 
ministers?  At  what  period  was  this  great  plan  of 
conquest  and  constipation  fully  developed?  In  whose 
mind  was  the  idea  of  destroying  the  pride  and  the 
plasters  of  France  first  engendered?  Without  castor 
oil  they  might,  for  some  months,  to  be  sure,  have 
carried  on  a  lingering  war ;  but  can  they  do  without 
bark?  Will  the  people  live  under  a  government 
where  antimonial  powders  cannot  be  procured?  Will 
they  bear  the  loss  of  mercury  ?  '  There's  the  rub.' 
Depend  upon  it,  the  absence  of  materia  medica  will 
soon  bring  them  to  their  senses,  and  the  cry  of 
Bourbon  and  bolus  burst  forth  from  the  Baltic  to  the 
Mediterranean." 

VOLTAIRE'S  PHYSIOGNOMY. 

Voltaire's  physiognomy,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  a  combination  of  the  eagle  and  the  monkey, 
was  illustrative  of  the  character  of  his  mind.  If  the 
soaring  wing  and  piercing  eye_of  the  eagle  opened  to 
him  all  the  regions  of  knowledge,  it  was  only  to  col- 
lect materials  for  the  gratification  of  that  apish  dispo- 
sition, which  seems -to  have  delighted  in  grinning, 
with  a  malicious  spirit  of  mockery,  at  the  detected 
weaknesses  and  infirmities  of  human  nature.  Though 
a  man  may  often  rise  the  wiser,  yet  I  believe  none 
ever  rose  the  better  from  the  perusal  of  Voltaire. — 
Matthews. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  163 

NECESSITIES. 

Mr.  "Wellesley  Pole  used  to  say,  that  it  was  impos- 
sible to  live  like  a  gentleman  in  England,  under  forty- 
thousand  a  year ;  and  Mr.  Brummel  told  a  lady  who 
asked  him,  how  much  she  ought  to  allow  her  son  for 
dress,  that  it  might  be  done  for  £800  a  year  with 
strict  economy.  Mr.  Senior,  in  an  excellent  Essay  on 
Political  Economy  recently  published  in  the  Encyclo- 
paedia Metropolitana,  states  that  a  carriage  for  a 
woman  of  fashion  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
necessaries  of  life,  and  we  presume  he  would  be 
equally  imperative  in  demanding  a  cabriolet  for  a 
man. — Quarterly  Review. 

GIL  BLAS. 

At  a  house  of  great  distinction,  ten  gentleman  of 

taste  were  desired  to  frame,  each  of  them,  a  list  of  the 

ten  most  entertaining  works,  which  they  had  read. 

One  work  only  found  its  way  into  every  list — Gil 

.Bias.  ;..  ,:.;. 

Campbell  the  poet,  once  said  that  he  would  rather 
have  written  Gil  Bias  than  any  of  the  "Waverly 
Novels. 

A   CHANGER    OF    DYNASTIES. 

In  the  third  year  of  his  present  majesty,  and  in 
the  30th  of  his  own  age,  Mr.  Isaac  Hawkins  Brown, 
then  upon  his  travels,  danced  one  evening  at  the 
court  of  Naples.  His  dress  was  a  volcanic  silk  with 


164  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

lava  buttons.  Whether  (as  the  Neapolitan  wits  said) 
he  had  studied  dancing  under  St.  Vitus,  or  whether 
David,  dancing  in  a  linen  vest,  was  his  model,  is  not 
known;  but  Mr.  Brown  danced  with  such  incon- 
ceivable alacrity  and  vigour,  that  he  threw  the  queen 
of  Naples  into  convulsions  of  laughter,  which  termi- 
nated in  a  miscarriage,  and  changed  the  dynasty  of 
the  Neapolitan  throne. — Sydney  Smith. 


ABSENT-MINDEDNESS. 


La  Fontaine  having  attended  the  funeral  of  a 
friend,  was  so  absent-minded  as  to  call  upon  him  a 
short  time  afterward.  Being  reminded  of  the  fact, 
he  was  at  first  greatly  surprised,  but  recollecting 
himself,  said :  "  It  is  true  enough,  for  I  was  there." 


A    NEW    LIGHT. 


Men  of  genius  are  rarely  much  annoyed  by  the 
company  of  vulgar  people,  because  they  have  a 
power  of  looking  at  such  persons  as  objects  of  amuse- 
ment,- of  another  race  altogether. — Coleridge.  9 


SCOTCH   AND    IRISH. 


When  George  IV.  went  to  Ireland,  one  of  the 
"pisintry,"  delighted  with  his  affability  to  the  crowd 
on  landing,  said  to  the  toll-keeper  as  the  king  passed 
through,  "Och  now!  and  his  Majesty,  God  bless  him, 
never  does."  "  We  lets  'em  go  free,"  was  the  answer. 
"  Then  there's  the  dirty  money  for  ye,"  says  Pat. 
"It  shall  never  be  said  that  the  king  came  here,  and 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  165 

found  nobody  to  pay  the  turnpike  for  him."  Moore, 
on  his  visit  to  Abbotsford,  told  this  story  to  Sir 
Walter,  when  they  were  comparing  notes  as  to  the 
two  royal  visits.  "  Now,  Mr.  Moore,"  replied  Scott, 
"  there  ye  have  just  the  advantage  of  us ;  there  was 
no  want  of  enthusiasm  here  ;  the  Scotch  folk  would 
have  done  any  thing  in  the  world  for  his  Majesty, 
but — pay  the  turnpike." 


CHANGING    HATS 


Barry,  the  painter,  was  with  Nollekens,  at  Rome, 
in  1760,  and  they  were  extremely  intimate.  Barry 
took  the  liberty  one  night,  when  they  were  about  to 
leave  the  English  coffee-house,  to  exchange  hats  with 
him ;  Barry's  being  edged  with  lace,  and  Nollekens' 

/  v  O  O  I 

a  very  shabby  plain  one.  Upon  his  returning  the 
hat  the  next  morning,  he  was  requested  by  his  friend, 
to  let  him  know  why  he  left  him  his  gold-laced  hat. 
"  Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  my  dear  Joey,"  answer- 
ed Barry,  "  I  fully  expected  assassination  last  night, 
and  I  was  to  have  been  known  by  my  laced  hat." 
Nollekens  often  used  to  relate  the  story,  adding,  "  It's 
what  the  Old  Bailey  people  would  call  a  true  bill 
against  Jem." 


ENNUI   AND    TRAVEL. 


If  a  man  and  an  Englishman  be  not  born  of  his 
mother  with  a  natural  Chiffney-bit  in  his  mouth, 
there  comes  to  him  a  time  for  loathing  the  wearisome 
ways  of  society — a  time  for  not  dancing  quadrilles — 


166  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

not  sitting  in  pews — a  time  for  pretending  that  Mil- 
ton, and  Shelley,  and  all  sorts  of  mere  dead  people, 
were  greater  in  death  than  the  first  living  Lord  of 
the  Treasury — a  time  for  scoffing  and  railing — for 
speaking  lightly  of  the  very  opera,  and  all  our  most 
cherished  institutions.  It  is  from  nineteen  to  two  or 
three  and  twenty  perhaps,  that  this  war  of  man 

against  men  is  like  to  be  waged  most  sullenly 

The  downs  and  moors  of  England  can  hold  you  no 
longer ;  with  larger  stride  you  burst  away  from  these 
slips  and  patches  of  free  land — you  tread  your  path 
through  the  crowds  of  Europe,  and  at  last  on  the 
banks  of  the  Jordan,  you  joyfully  know  that  you  are 
upon  the  very  frontier  of  all  accustomed  respectabili- 
ties. A  little  while  you  are  free,  and  unlabelled,  like 
the  ground  you  compass ;  but  civilization  is  coming 
and  coming ;  you  and  your  much-loved  waste  lands 
will  be  inclosed,  and,  sooner  or  later,  you  will  be 
brought  down  to  a  state  of  utter  usefulness. — Eotlien. 


JOHN   WILKES. 


Wilkes  himself,  in  his  soberer  years,  used  to  laugh 
pleasantly  enough  at  the  folly  of  his  former  dupes. 
One  day,  in  his  latter  life,  he  went  to  court,  and  was 
asked  by  George  III.,  in  a  good-humoured  tone  of 
banter,  "how  his  friend,  Serjeant  Grlynn  was."  This 
man  had  been  one  of  his  most  furious  partisans. 
"  Pray,  sir,"  replied  Wilkes  with  affected  gravity, 
"don't  call  Serjeant  Glynn  a  friend  of  mine,  thefelloiv 
was  a  Wilkite,  ivhich  your  majesty  knows  I  never  was." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  167 

Brougham  relates  an  anecdote  of  Wilkes,  charac- 
teristic of  this  celebrated  demagogue.  Colonel  Lut- 
trell  and  he  were  standing  on  the  Brentford  hustings, 
when  he  asked  his  adversary  privately,  whether  he 
thought  there  were  more  fools  or  rogues  among  the 
multitude  of  Wilkites  spread  out  before  them.  "  I'll 
tell  them  what  you  say,  and  put  an  end  to  you,"  said 
the  Colonel ;  but  perceiving  the  threat  gave  Wilkes 
no  alarm,  he  added,  "  surely  you  don't  mean  to  say 
you  could  stand  here  one  hour  after  I  did  so?" 
"Why,"  answered  the  other,  "you  would  not  be  alive 
one  instant  after."  "How  so?"  "I  should  merely 
say  it  was  a  fabrication,  and  they  would  destroy  you 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  I" 

TESTS. 

We  remember  a  remark  of  the  late  Earl  of  Dud- 
ley, to  the  effect  that  good  melted  butter  is  an  uner- 
ring test  of  the  moral  qualities  of  your  host.  A 
distinguished  connoisseur,  still  spared  to  the  world, 
contends  that  the  moral  qualities  of  your  hostess  may 
in  a  like  manner  be  tested  by  the  potatoes,  and  he 
assures  us  that  he  was  never  known  to  re-enter  a 
house  where  a  badly  dressed  potato  had  been  seen. 
The  importance  attached  by  another  equally  unim- 
peachable authority  to  the  point,  is  sufficiently  shown 
by  what  took  place  a  short  time  since  at  the  meeting 
of  a  club-committee  specially  called  for  the  selection 
of  a  cook.  The  candidates  were  an  Englishman 
from  the  Albion  Club,  and  a  Frenchman  recom- 


168  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

mended  by  Tide;  the  eminent  divine  to  whom  AVG 
allude  was  deputed  to  examine  them,  and  the  first 
question  he  put  to  each  was,  "  Can  you  boil  a  pota- 
to?"— Quarterly  Review. 


BOILED    MUTTON. 


A  farmer,  Charles  Lamb's  chance  companion  in  a 
coach,  kept  boring  him  to  death  with  questions  as  to 
the  state  of  the  crops.  At  length  he  put  a  poser — 
"And  pray,  sir,  how  are  turnips  t'year?"  "Why, 
that,  sir,  (stammered  out  Lamb,)  will  depend  upon 
the  boiled  legs  of  mutton." 

RISE    AND   FALL    OF    KINGDOMS. 

Middleton,  in  his  Life  of  Cicero,  speaking  of  the- 
opinion  entertained  of  Britain  by  that  orator  and 
his  contemporary  Romans,  has  the  following  pas- 
sage: "From  their  railleries  of  this  kind,  on  the 
barbarity  and  misery  of  our  island,  one  cannot  help 
reflecting  on  the  surprising  fate  and  revolutions  of 
kingdoms;  how  Rome,  once  the  mistress  of  the 
world,  the  seat  of  arts,  empire,  and  glory,  now  lies 
sunk  in  sloth,  ignorance,  and  poverty,  enslaved  to 
the  most  cruel,  as  well  as  to  the  most  contemptible 
of  tyrants,  superstition  and  religious  imposture : 
while  this  remote  country,  anciently  the  jest  and  con- 
tempt of  the  polite  Romans,  is  become  the  happy  seat 
of  liberty,  plenty,  and  letters ;  flourishing  in  all  the 
arts  and  refinements  of  civil  life ;  yet  running,  per- 
haps, the  same  course  which  Rome  itself  had  run 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  169 

before  it,  from  virtuous  industry  to  wealth;  from 
wealth  to  luxury ;  from  luxury  to  an  impatience  of 
discipline  and  corruption  of  morals ;  till  by  a  total 
degeneracy  and  loss  of  virtue,  being  grown  ripe  for 
destruction,  it  falls  a  prey  at  last  to  some  hardy  op- 
pressor, and  with  the  loss  of  liberty,  losing  every- 
thing that  is  valuable,  sinks  gradually  again  into  its 
original  barbarism." 

RED-HAIRED  MEN. 

Sydney  Smith,  alluding  to  the  foolishness  of  ex- 
cluding Catholics  from  Parliament,  says:  "I  have 
often  thought  if  the  wisdom,  of  our  ancestors  had  ex- 
cluded all  persons  with  red  hair  from  the  House  of 
Commons,  of  the  throes  and  convulsions  it  would  oc- 
casion to  restore  them  to  their  natural  rights.  What 
mobs  and  riots  would  it  produce?  To  what  infinite 
abuse  and  obloquy  would  the  capillary  patriot  be  ex- 
posed ?  what  wormwood  would  distil  from  one  politi- 
cian? what  froth  would  drop  from  another?  how  one 
lord  would  work  away  about  the  hair  of  King  Wil- 
liam and  Lord  Somers,  and  the  authors  of  the  great 
and  glorious  Eevolution?  how  another*  would  ap- 
peal to  the  Deity  and  his  own  virtues,  and  to  the  hair 
of  his  children?  Some  would  say  that,  red-haired 
men  were  superstitious;  some  would  prove  they 
were  atheists;  they  would  be  petitioned  against  as 
the  friends  of  slavery,  and  the  advocates  for  revolt ; 

*  Lord  Eldon,  celebrated  for  his  lachrymal  qualities,  and  for  "  ap- 
pealing to  his  own  Yirtues"  in  his  speeches. 

15 


170  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

in  short,  such  a  corrupter  of  the  heart  and  the  un- 
derstanding is  the  spirit  of  persecution,  that  these 
unfortunate  people,  (conspired  against  by  their 
fellow-subjects  of  every  complexion,)  if  they  did  not 
emigrate  to  countries  where  hair  of  another  colour 
was  persecuted,  would  be  driven  to  the  falsehood  of 
perukes,  or  the  hypocrisy  of  the  Tricosian  fluid." 

A    GOOD    DINNER. 

"A  good  soup,"  said  the  late  Earl  of  Dudley,  "a 
small  turbot,  a  neck  of  venison,  ducklings  with  green 
peas,  or  chicken  with  asparagus,  and  an  apricot  tart, 
is  a  dinner  for  an  emperor — when  he  cannot  get  a 
better." 

LIFE'S  SECOND  MORNING. 

There  are  not  many  more  beautiful  lines  in  the 
English  language,  there  are  certainly  none  so  beau- 
tiful in  the  writings  of  their  author,  as  those  of  Mrs. 
Barbauld,  which  the  poet  Rogers  is  fond  of  repeating 
to  his  friends,  in  his  fine,  deliberate  manner,  with 
just  enough  of  tremulousness  in  that  grave  voice  of 
his,  to  give  his  recitation  the  effect  of  deep  feeling. 

"  Life  1  -we've  been  long  together, 
Through  pleasant  and  through  cloudy  weather. 

Tis  hard  to  part  when  friends  are  dear, 
'  Perhaps  'twill  cost  a  sigh,  a  tear. 

Then  steal  away,  give  little  warning, 

Choose  thine  own  time  ; 

Say  not  good  night,  but,  in  some  happier  clime, 
Bid  me  good  morning." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  171 

It  makes  the  thought  of  Death  cheerful  to  repre- 
sent it  thus,  as  Life  looking  in  upon  you  with  a  glad 
greeting,  amidst  fresh  airs  and  glorious  light.  The 
lines  I  infer  were  written  by  Mrs.  Barbauld  in  her 
late  old  age,  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  aged  poet, 
who  some  years  since  entered  upon  the  fifth  score  of 
his  years,  should  find  them  haunting  his  memory. — 
Bryant. 

EDUCATION. 

There  is  a  tendency  in  modern  education  to  cover 
the  fingers  with  rings,  and  at  the  same  time  to  cut 
the  sinews  at  the  wrist. 

The  worst  education,  which  teaches  self-denial,  is 
better  than  the  best  which  teaches  every  thing  else, 
and  not  that. — Sterling. 

CURRAN. 

As  an  example  of  powerful  unpremeditated  elo- 
quence, may  be  given  a  short  answer  of  Curran,  the 
Irish  orator,  to  a  certain  Judge  Robinson — "the 
author  of  many  stupid,  slavish,  arid  scurrilous  political 
pamphlets,"  and  by  his  demerits  and  servility  raised 
to  the  eminence  which  he  thus  disgraced — who,  upon 
one  occasion,  when  the  barrister  was  arguing  a  case 
before  him,  had  the  brutality  to  reproach  Curran 
with  .his  poverty,  by  telling  him  that  he  suspected 
"  his  law  library  was  rather  contracted." 

"  It  is  true,  my  lord,"  said  Curran,  with  dignified 
respect,  "  that  I  am  poor,  and  the  circumstance  has  cer- 


172  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

tainly  somewhat  curtailed  my  library :  my  books  are 
not  numerous,  but  they  are  select,  and  I  hope  they  have 
been  perused  with  proper  dispositions.  I  have  prepared 
myself  for  this  high  profession  rather  by  the  study  of 
a  few  good  works,  than  by  the  composition  of  a  great 
many  bad  ones.  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  poverty ; 
but  I  should  be  ashamed  of  my  wealth,  could  I  have 
stooped  to  acquire  it,  by  servility  and  corruption. 
If  I  rise  not  to  rank,  I  shall  at  least  be  honest ;  and 
should  I  ever  cease  to  be  so,  many  an  example  shows 
me  that  an  ill-gained  reputation,  by  making  me  the 
more  conspicuous,  would  only  make  me  the  more 
universally  and  the  more  notoriously  contemptible !" 
— Brougham. 


FEMALE    EDUCATION. 


The  pursuit  of  knowledge  is  the  most  innocent 
and  interesting  occupation  which  can  be  given  to  the 
female  sex ;  nor  can  there  be  a  better  method  of 
checking  a  spirit  of  dissipation  than  by  diffusing  a 
taste  for  literature.  The  true  way  to  attack  vice,  is  by 
setting  up  something  else  against  it.  Give  to  women,  in 
early  youth,  something  to  acquire,  of  sufficient  in- 
terest and  importance  to  command  the  application  of 
their  mature  faculties,  and  to  excite  their  per- 
severance in  future  life ;  teach  them  that  happiness 
is  to  be  derived  from  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  as 
well  as  the  gratification  of  vanity ;  and  you  will  raise 
up  a  much  more  formidable  barrier  against  dissipa- 
tion than  a  host  of  invectives  and  exhortations  can 
supply. — Sydney  Smith. 


AFTER-DIN  NEE.     TABLE-TALK.  173 

EDUCATION   AT   BOTANY   BAY. 

Sydney  Smith,  in  enforcing  the  necessity  of  edu- 
cating the  children  of  the  convicts  at  Botany  Bay, 
humorously  remarks,  "Nothing  but  the  earliest  at- 
tention to  the  habits  of  children,  can  restrain  the 
erratic  finger  from  the  contiguous  scrip,  or  prevent 
the  hereditary  tendency  to  larcenous  abstraction." 

PITT    AND"  WALPOLE. 

In  a  debate,  in  which  Mr.  Pitt  and  some  of  his 
young  friends  had  violently  attacked  old  Horace 
Walpole,  the  latter  complained  of  the  self-sufficiency 
of  the  young  men  of  the  day,  on  which  Mr.  Pitt  got 
up  with  great  warmth,  beginning  with  these  words : 
"  With  the  greatest  reverence  for  the  gray  hairs  of 
the  honourable  gentleman — "  upon  which  Walpole 
pulled  off  his  wig,  and  showed  his  head  covered  with 
gray  hairs,  which  occasioned  a  general  laughter,  in 
which  Pitt  joined,  and  the  dispute  subsided. 

CULTIVATION    OF    THE    MENTAL    POWERS. 

The  age  of  a  cultivated  mind  is  often  more  com- 
placent, and  even  more  luxurious  than  the  youth. 
It  is  the  reward  of  the  due  use  of  the  endowments 
bestowed  by  nature :  while  they,  who  in  youth  have 
made  no  provision  for  age,  are  left  like  an  unshel- 
tered tree,  stripped  of  its  leaves  and  branches,  sha- 
king and  withering  before  the  cold  blasts  of  winter. 
In  truth,  nothing  is  so  happy  to  itself  and  so  attractive 
to  others,  as  a  genuine  and  ripened  imagination,  that 

15* 


174  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

knows  its  own  powers,  and  throws  forth  its  treasures 
with  frankness  and  fearlessness.  The  more  it  pro- 
duces, the  more  capable  it  becomes  of  production; 
the  creative  faculty  grows  by  indulgence;  and  the 
more  it  combines,  the  more  means  and  varieties  of 
combinations  it  discovers. — Sir  Eg&rton  Brydges. 

GOOD    RULE. 

One  of  the  wisest  rules  that  can  be  observed  in 
study,  is  to  eschew  those  subjects  which  afford  no 
footing  to  the  mind. — St.  John. 

ACCESSION    TO    THE    THRONE. 

A  traveller,  benighted  in  a  wild  and  mountainous 
country,  at  length  beheld  the  welcome  light  of  a 
neighbouring  habitation.  He  urged  his  horse  towards 
it,  when,  instead  of  a  house,  he  approached  a  kind  of 
illuminated  chapel,  from  whence  issued  the  most 
alarming  sounds  he  had  ever  heard.  Though  greatly 
surprised  and  terrified,  he  ventured  to  look  through 
a  window  of  the  building,  when  he  was  amazed  to 
.see  a  large  assembly  of  cats,  who,  arranged  in  solemn 
order,  were  lamenting  over  the  corpse  of  one  of  their 
own  species,  which  lay  in  state,  and  was  surrounded 
with  the  various  emblems  of  sovereignty.  Alarmed 
and  terrified  at  this  extraordinary  spectacle,  he  hast- 
ened from  the  place  with  greater  eagerness  than  he 
approached  it,  and  arriving  some  time  after  at  the 
house  of  a  gentleman,  who  never  turned  the  wan- 
derer from  his  gate,  the  impressions  of  what  he  had 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  175 

seen  were  so  visible  on  his  countenance,  that  his 
friendly  host  inquired  into  the  cause  of  his  anxiety. 
He  accordingly  told  him.  his  story,  and  having  fin- 
ished it,  a  large  family  cat,  who  had  lain  during  the 
narrative  before  the  fire,  immediately  started  up,  and 
very  articulately  exclaimed,  "  Then  I  am  King  of  the 
Cats  /"  and  having  thus  announced  his  new  dignity, 
the  animal  darted  up  the  chimney,  and  was  seen  no 
more. — Lord  Littleton's  Letters. 

SHERIDAN'S  WIT. 

Sheridan's  wit  was  eminently  brilliant,  and  almost 
always  successful ;  it  was  like  all  his  speaking,  exceed- 
ingly well  prepared,  but  it  was  skillfully  introduced 
and  happily  applied;  and  it  was  well  mingled  also 
with  humour,  occasionally  descending  to  farce.  How 
little  it  was  the  inspiration  of  the  moment,  all  men 
were  aware  who  knew  his  habits ;  and  in  the  secret 
note-books  of  this  famous  wit,  we  are  enabled  to  trace 
the  jokes  in  embryo,  with  which  he  had  so  often 
made  the  walls  of  St.  Stephen's  shake,  in  a  merriment 
excited  by  the  happy  appearance  of  a  sudden  unpre- 
meditated effusion. 

Take  an  instance  in  an  extract  from  Sheridan's 
common-place  book :  "  He  employs  his  fancy  in  his 
narrative,  and  keeps  his  recollections  for  his  wit." 
The  same  idea  is  expanded  into,  "  "When  he  makes 
his  jokes  you  applaud  the  accuracy  of  his  memory, 
and  'tis  only  when  he  states  his  facts  that  you  admire 
the  flights  of*  his  imagination."  But  the  thought  was 


176  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

too  good  to  be  thus  wasted  on  the  desert  air  of  a 
common-place  book.  So  it  came  forth  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Kelly,  who,  having  been  a  composer  of  music, 
became  a  wine  merchant.  "You  will,"  said  the 
ready  wit,  "import  your  music,  and  compose  your 
wine."  Nor  was  this  service  exacted  from  an  old 
idea  thought  sufficient :  so  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
an  easy,  and  apparently  off-hand  parenthesis  was  thus 
filled  with  it,  at  the  cost  of  Mr.  Dundas :  "  (who  gen- 
erally resorts  to  his  memory  for  his  jokes,  and  to  his 
imagination  for  his  facts.)" — Brougham. 

OATS   IN    SCOTLAND. 

Lord  Elibank  made  a  happy  retort  on  Dr.  John- 
son's definition  of  oats :  "  a  gram,  which  in  England 
is  generally  given  to  the  horses,  but  in  Scotland  sup- 
ports the  people."  "  Yes,"  said  he,  "  and  where  else 
will  you  see  such  horses  and  such  men  ?" 

DR.  JOHNSON'S  CLUB-ROOM. 

The  club-room  is  before  us,  and  the  table  on 
which  stands  the  omelet  for  Nugent,  and  the  lemons 
for  Johnson.  There  are  assembled  those  heads  which 
live  for  ever  on  the  canvas  of  Reynolds.  There  are 
the  spectacles  of  Burke,  and  the  tail  thin  form  of 
Langton;  the  courtly  sneer  of  Beauclerc,  and  the 
beaming  smile  of  Garrick ;  Gibbon  rapping  his  snuff- 
box, and  Sir  Joshua  with  his  trumpet  in  his  ear.  In 
the  foreground  is  that  strange  figure,  which  is  as 
familiar  to  us  as  the  figures  of  those  amoftg  whom  we 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  177 

have  been  brought  up — the  gigantic  body,  the  huge 
inassy  face,  seamed  with  scars  of  disease ;  the  brown 
coat,  the  black  worsted  stockings ;  the  gray  wig,  with 
the  scorched  foretop ;  the  dirty  hands,  the  nails  bitten 
and  pared  to  the  quick.  We  see  the  eyes  and  nose 
moving  with  convulsive  twitches ;  we  see  the  heavy 
form  rolling ;  we  hear  it  puffing ;  and  then  comes  the 
"Why,  sir?"  and  the  "What  then,  sir?"  and  the 
"No,  sir!"  and  the  "You  don't  see  your  way 
through  the  question,  sir !" — Macaulay. 


INVITATION    TO    DINNER. 


"The  following,   one  of   the  latest  productions 
of  the  poet  Moore,  addressed  to  the  Marquis  of 
Lansdowne,   shows,   that    though  by  this  time  in- 
clining to  threescore  and  ten,  he  retains  all  the  fire  * 
.and  vivacity  of  early  youth.     It  is   full  of  those 
exquisitely  apt  allusions  and  felicitous  turns  of  ex- 
pression in  which  the  English  Anacreon  excels.     It 
breathes  the  very  spirit  of  classic  festivity.     Such  an 
invitation  to  dinner,  is  enough  to  create  an  appetite 
in  any  lover  of  poetry :" 

"  Some  think  we  bards  have  nothing  real — 

That  poets  live  among  the  stars,  so 
Their  very  dinners  are  ideal,— 

(And  heaven  knows,  too  oft  they  are  so :) 
For  instance,  that  we  have,  instead 

Of  vulgar  chops  and  stews  and  hashes, 
First  course, — a  phoenix  at  the  head, 

Done  in  its  own  celestial  ashes ; 
At  foot,  a  cygnet,  which  Kept  singing 
All  the  time  its  neck  was  wringing. 


178  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

Side  dishes,  thus, — Minerva's  owl, 
Or  any  such  like  learned  fowl ; 
Doves,  such  as  heaven's  poulterer  gets 
When  Cupid  shoots  his  mother's  pets. 
Larks  stew'd  in  morning's  roseate  breath, 

Or  roasted  by  a  sunbeam's  splendour ; 
And  nightingales,  be-rhymed  to  death — 

Like  young  pigs  whipp'd  to  make  them  tender. 
Such  fare  may  suit  those  bards  who're  able 
To  banquet  at  Duke  Humphrey's  table ; 
But  as  for  me,  who've  long  been  taught 

To  eat  and  drink  like  other  people, 
And  can  put  up  with  mutton,  bought 

Where  Bromham  rears  its  ancient  steeple , 
If  Lansdowne  will  consent  to  share 
My  humble  feast,  though  rude  the  fare, 
Yet,  seasoned  by  that  salt  he  brings 
From  Attica's  salinest  springs, 
'Twill  turn  to  dainties ;  while  the  cup, 
Beneath  his  influence  brightening  up, 
Like  that  of  Baucis,  touched  by  Jove, 
Will  sparkle  fit  for  gods  above !" 

MATHEMATICAL    SAILORS. 

"Nathaniel  Bowditch,  the  translator  of  Laplace's 
Mecanique  Celeste,  displayed  in  very  early  life  a  taste 
for  mathematical  studies.  In  the  year  1788,  when  he 
was  only  fifteen  years  old,  he  actually  made  an  alma- 
nac for  the  year  1790,  containing  all  the  usual  tables, 
calculations  of  the  eclipses  and  other  phenomena,  and 
even  the  customary  predictions  of  the  weather. 

Bowditch  was  bred  to  the  sea,  and  in  his  early 
voyages  taught  navigation  to  the  common  sailors 
about  him.  Captain  Prince,  with  whom  he  often 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  179 

sailed,  relates,  that  one  day  the  supercargo  of  the 
vessel  said  to  him,  '  Come,  captain,  let  us  go  forward, 
and  hear  what  the  sailors  are  talking  about,  under 
the  lee  of  the  long-boat.'  They  went  forward  ac- 
cordingly, and  the  captain  was  surprised  to  find  the 
sailors,  instead  of  spinning  their  long  yarns,  earnestly 
engaged  with  book,  slate,  and  pencil,  discussing  the 
high  matters  of  tangents  and  secants,  altitudes,  dip, 
and  refraction.  Two  of  them,  in  particular,  were 
very  zealously  disputing, — one  of  them  calling  out  to 
the  other,  'Well,  Jack,  what  have  you  got?'  I've 
got  the  sine, '  was  the  answer.  *  But  that  ain't  right, ' 
said  the  other ;  '  /say  it  is  the  cosine." 

DILATORY   INCLINATIONS. 

Sir  Eobert  Peel,  speaking  of  Lord  Eldon,  remark- 
ed, that  "even  his  failings  leaned  to  virtue's  side;" 
upon  which  it  was  observed,  that  his  lordship's  fail- 
ings resembled  the  leaning  tower  of  Pisa,  which,  in 
spite  of  its  long  inclination,  had  never  yet  gone  over. 


TURNER RETALIATION. 


Campbell  relates:  —  "Turner,  the  painter,  is  a 
ready  wit.  Once,  at  a  dinner,  where  several  artists, 
amateurs,  and  literary  men  were  convened,  a  poet,  by 
way  of  being  facetious,  proposed  as  a  toast,  the  health 
of  the  painters  and  glaziers  of  Great  Britain.  The 
toast  was  drank ;  and  Turner,  after  returning  thanks 
for  it,  proposed  the  health  of  the  British  paper- 
stainers." 


180  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

DANGEROUS   FOOLS. 

If  men  are  to  be  fools,  it  were  better  that  they 
•were  fools  in  little  matters  than  in  great;  dullness, 
turned  up  with  temerity,  is  a  livery  all  the  worse  for 
the  facings ;  and  the  most  tremendous  of  all  things  is 
a  magnanimous  dunce. — Sydney  Smith. 

HORNE    TOOKE    AND  WJLKES. 

Home  Tooke  having  challenged  "Wilkes,  then 
sheriff  of  London  and  Middlesex,  received  the  follow- 
ing reply :  "  Sir,  I  do  not  think  it  my  business  to  cut 
the  throat  of  every  desperado  that  maybe  tired  of  his 
life,  but  as  I  am  at  present  High  Sheriff  of  the  city  of 
London,  it  may  happen  that  I  shall  shortly  have  an 
opportunity  of  attending  you  in  my  official  capacity,  in 
which  case  I  will  answer  for  it,  that  you  shall  have  no 
ground  to  complain  of  my  endeavours  to  serve  you." 

FOOTE'S  WOODEN  LEG. 

There  is  no  Shakspeare  or  Eoscius  upon  record, 
who,  like  Foote,  supported  a  theatre  for  a  series  of 
years  by  his  own  acting,  in  his  own  writings ;  and  for 
ten  years  of  the  time  upon  a  wooden  leg !  This  prop 
to  his  person  I  once  saw  standing  by  his  bedside,  ready 
dressed  in  a  handsome  silk  stocking,  with  a  polished 
shoe  and  gold  buckle,  awaiting  the  owner's  getting 
up ;  it  had  a  kind  of  tragic,  comical  appearance,  and 
I  leave  to  inveterate  wags  the  ingenuity  of  punning 
upon  a  Foote  in  bed,  and  a  leg  out  of  it.  The  proxy" 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  1$1 

for  a  limb  thus  decorated,  though,  ludicrous,  is  too 
strong  a  reminder  of  amputation,  to  be  very  laugh- 
able. His  undressed  supporter  was  the  common 
wooden  stick,  which  was  not  a  little  injurious  to  a 
well-kept  pleasure-ground.  I  remember  following 
him  after  a  shower  of  rain,  upon  a  nicely  rolled  ter- 
race, in  which  he  stumped  a  deep  round  hole  at  every 
other  step  he  took,  till  it  appeared  as  if  the  gardener 
had  been  there  with  his  dibble,  preparing,  against  all 
horticultural  practice,  to  plant  a  long  row  of  cabbages 
in  a  gravel  walk. — George  dolman. 

SIR  JOSHUA  REYNOLD'S  DINNERS. 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  appears  to  have  been  bat 
an  irregular  manager  in  his  conviviality.  Often 
was  the  dinner-board,  prepared  for  seven  or  eight, 
required  to  accommodate  itself  to  fifteen  or  six- 
teen; for  often,  on  the  very  eve  of  dinner,  would 
Sir  Joshua  tempt  afternoon  visitors  with  intimation 
that  Johnson,  or  Grarrick,  or  Goldsmith  was  to  dine 
there.  Nor  was  the  want  of  seats  the  only  difficulty . 
A  want  of  knives  and  forks,  of  plates  and  glasses,  as 
often  succeeded.  In  something  of  the  same  style  too, 
was  the  attendance;  the  kitchen  had  to  keep  pace 
with  the  visitors,  and  it  was  easy  to  know  the  guests 
best  acquainted  with  the  house,  by  their  never  failing 
to  call  instantly  for  beer,  bread,  or  wine,  that  they 
might  get  them  before  the  first  course  was  over,  and 
the  worst  confusion  began.  Once  was  Sir  Joshua 
prevailed  upon  to  furnish  his  table  with  dinner- 

16 


182  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

glasses  and  decanters,  and  some  saving  of  time  they 
proved ;  yet,  as  they  were  demolished  in  the  course 
of  service,  he  could  never  be  prevailed  upon  to  re- 
place them."  "But  these  trifling  embarrassments," 
says  Mr.  Courtenay,  describing  them  to  Sir  James 
Mackintosh;  "only  served  to  enhance  the  hilarity 
and  the  singular  pleasure  of  the  entertainment.  It 
was  not  the  wine,  dishes,  and  cookery ;  not  the  fish 
and  venison  that  were  talked  of  or  recommended; 
those  social  hours,  that  irregular  convivial  talk,  had 
matter  of  higher  relish,  and  far  more  eagerly  enjoyed. 
And  amid  all  the  animated  bustle  of  his  guests,  the 
host  sat  perfectly  composed;  always  attentive  to 
what  was  said,  never  minding  what  was  ate  or  drank, 
and  leaving  every  one  at  perfect  liberty  to  scramble 
for  himself." — forster's  Life  of  Goldsmith. 


DOMESTIC    HAPPINESS. 


Nothing  hinders  the  constant  agreement  of  people 
who  live  together,  but  mere  vanity;  a  secret  insist- 
ing upon  what  they  think  their  dignity  or  merit,  and 
inward  expectation  of  such  an  over-measure  of  def- 
erence and  regard,  as  answers  to  their  own  extrava- 
gant false  scale,  and  which  nobody  can  pay,  because 
none  but  themselves  can  tell  readily  to  what  pitch  it 
amounts. — Pope. 


LORD    BATHURST. 


This  peer  died  at  the  age  of  91.     Till  within  a 
month  of  his  death,  he  constantly  rode  out  two  hours 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  183 

in  the  morning,  and  drank  his  bottle  of  wine  after 
dinner.  Upon  one  occasion  he  invited  a  large  party 
to  meet  his  son,  who  had  become  Lord  Chancellor, 
when  the  whole  company  sat  late  except  the  latter, 
who  took  his  leave  at  the  decorous  hour  of  twelve. 
"  Come,"  said  the  aged  earl,  "  now  the  old  gentleman 
is  gone,  we  can  manage  to  take  another  bottle." 


TRANSFORMATIONS. 


Some  would  trace  the  pope  himself,  with  his 
triple  crown  on  his  head,  and  the  keys  of  heaven  and 
hell  in  his  pocket,  to  our  old  acquaintance  Cerberus, 
with  his  three  heads,  who  kept  guard  as  the  custos 
of  Tartarus  and  Elysium. 

Be  this  as  it  may — the  pun  of  Swift  is  completely 
realized.  The  very  same  piece,  which  the  Eomans 
adored,  now,  with  a  new  head  on  its  shoulders — like 
an  old  friend  with  a  new  face — is  worshipped  with 
equal  devotion  by  the  modern  Italians ;  and  Jupiter 
appears  again,  with  as  little  change  of  name  as  of 
materials,  in  the  character  of  the  Jew,  Peter.  And,  as 
if  they  wished  to  make  the  resemblance  as  perfect  as 
possible,  they  have,  in  imitation  of  the 

Centum  aras  posuit,  vigilemque,  sacraverat  ignem 

of  his  pagan  prototype,  surrounded  the  tomb  of  the 
Apostle  with  a  hundred  ever-burning  lights.  It  is 
really  surprising  to  see  with  what  apparent  fervour  of 
devotion,  all  ranks,  and  ages,  and  sexes,  kneel  to,  and 
kiss  the  toe  of  this- brazen  image ;  for  there  is  certainly 


184  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

nothing  in  the  •"  christened  Jove"  of  St.  Peter's,  as  a 
piece  of  sculpture,  to  palliate  the  superstition  of  its  vo- 
taries. They  rub  it  against  their  lips,  with  the  most 
reverential  piety.  I  have  sat  by  the  hour  to  see  the 
crowds  of  people,  who  flock  in  to  perform  this  cere- 
mony, waiting  for  their  turn  to  kiss ;  and  yet  the  catholic 
would  laugh  at  the  pious  Mussulman,  who  performs 
a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  to  wash  the  holy  pavement 
and  kiss  the  black  stone  of  the  Caaba — which,  like 
his  own  St.  Peter,  is  also  a  relic  of  heathenism.  Alas, 
poor  human  nature  I  The  catholic  laughs  at  the 
Mussulman — we  do  not  scruple  to  laugh  at  the  cath- 
olic— the  deist  laughs  at  us — and  the  atheist  laughs 
at  all.  What  is  truth?  "We  must  wait  for  an  an- 
swer. But  though  all  must  loait  the  great  teacher — 
Death,  to  decide  between  them,  let  us  repose  our 
hopes  and  fears,  with  humble  confidence,  in  the 
promises  of  Christianity;  not  as  it  appears  disfigured 
and  disguised  at  Eome,  but  as  it  is  written  and  re- 
corded in  that  sacred  volume,  which,  in  the  words  of 
Locke,  has  "  God  for  its  author,  salvation  for  its  end, 
and  truth  without  any  mixture  of  error  for  its  mat- 
ter."— Matthews. 

CLEVER   NONSENSE. 

The  following  sentences  of  droll  nonsense  were 
written  by  Foote,  the  dramatist,  for  the  purpose  of 
trying  the  memory  of  one  who  boasted  that  he  could 
learn  any  thing  by  heart  on  hearing  it  once : — 

"  So  she  went  into  the  garden  to  cut  a  cabbage-leaf 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.    .  185 

to  make  an  apple-pie ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  great 
she-bear  coming  up  the  street  pops  its  head  into  the 
shop — '  What !  no  soap  ?'  So  he  died ;  and  she  very 
imprudently  married  the  barber:  and  there  were 
present  the  Picninnies,  and  the  Joblilies,  and  the 
Garyulies,  and  the  great  Panjandrum  himself,  with 
the  little  round  button  at  top.  And  they  all  fell 
to  playing  the  game  of  '  Catch  as  catch  can' — 
till  the  gunpowder  ran  out  of  the  heels  of  their 
boots." 


SATIRE    AND    SATIRISTS. 


Satirical  writers  and  speakers  are  not  half  so  clever 
as  they  think  themselves,  nor  as  they  are  thought  to 
be.  They  do  winnow  the  corn,  'tis  true,  but  'tis  to 
feed  upon  the  chaff.  I  am  sorry  to  add,  that  they 
who  are  always  speaking  ill  of  others,  are  also  very 
apt  to  be  doing  ill  to  them.  It  requires  some  talent 
and  some  generosity  to  find  out  talent  and  generosity 
in  others,  though  nothing  but  self-conceit  and  malice 
are  needed  to  discover  or  to  imagine  faults.  It  is 
much  easier  for  an  ill-natured  man  than  for  a  good- 
natured  man  to  be  smart  and  witty. — Sharp. 

DO  GOOD. 

If  a  man  is  not  rising  upwards  to  be  an  angel, 
depend  upon  it,  he  is  sinking  downwards  to  be  a 
devil!  He  cannot  stop  at  the  beast.  The  most 
savage  of  men  are  not  beasts;  they  are  worse — a 
great  deal  worse. — Coleridge's  Table  Talk. 
16* 


186  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 


FASHIONABLE    LIFE. 

Whenever  there  is  a  very  large  assemblage  of  per-, 
sons  who  have  no  other  occupation  but  to  amuse  them- 
selves, there  will  infallibly  be  generated  acuteness  of 
intellect,  refinement  of  manners,  and  good  taste  in 
conversation ;  and,  with  the  same  certainty,  all  pro- 
found thought  and  all  serious  affection  will  be  gene- 
rally discarded  from  their  society.  The  multitude  of 
persons  and  things  that  force  themselves  upon  the 
attention  in  such  a  scene,  and  the  rapidity  with  which 
they  succeed  each  other  and  pass  away,  prevent  any 
'  one  from  making  a  deep  or  permanent  impression ; 
and  the  mind,  having  never  been  tasked  to  any  course 
of  application,  and  long  habituated  to  this  lively  suc- 
cession and  variety  of  objects,  comes  at  last  to  require 
the  excitement  of  perpetual  change,  and  to  find  a 
multiplicity  of  friends  as  indispensable  as  a  multi- 
plicity of  amusements.  Thus,  the  characteristics  of 
large  and  polished  society  come  almost  inevitably 
to  be,  wit  and  heartlessness,  acuteness  and  perpetual 
derision.  The  same  impatience  of  uniformity,  and 
passion  for  variety,  which  gives  so  much  grace  to 
their  conversation,  by  excluding  tediousness  and  per- 
tinacious wrangling,  make  them  incapable  of  dwelling 
for  many  minutes  on  the  feelings  and  concerns  of  one 
individual ;  while  the  constant  pursuit  of  little  gratifi- 
cations, and  the  weak  dread  of  all  uneasy  sensations, 
render  them  equally  averse  from  serious  sympathy 
and  deep  thought.  They  speedily  find  out  the  short- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  187 

est  and  most  pleasant  way  to  all  truths,  to  which  a 
short  and  pleasant  way  can  readily  be  discovered; 
and  then  lay  it  down  as  a  maxim  that  no  others  are 
worth  looking  after :  and,  in  the  same  way,  they  do 
such  petty  kindnesses,  and  indulge  such  light  sym- 
pathies, as  do  not  put  them  to  any  trouble,  or  en- 
croach at  all  on  their  amusements ;  while  they  make 
it  a  principle  to  wrap  themselves  up  in  those  amuse- 
ments from  the  assault  of  all  more  engrossing  or  im- 
portunate affections.  .  .  .  Even  in  the  days  of  youth 
and  high  spirits,  there  is  no  solid  enjoyment  in  living 
altogether  with  people  who  care  nothing  about  us; 
and  when  we  begin  to  grow  old  and  unamusable, 
there  can  be  nothing  so  comfortless  as  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  those  who  think  of  nothing  but  amuse- 
ment. 

Baron  Grimm,  in  chronicling  the  utter  careless- 
ness and  instant  oblivion  that  followed  the  death 
of  one  of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  society, 
remarks :  "  tant  il  est  vrai  que  ce  qui  nous  appellons 
la  soeiete,  est  ce  qu'il  y  a  de  plus  leger,  de  plus  ingrat, 
et  de  plus  frivole,  au  monde." — Jeffrey. 

HOPELESS   PEOPLE. 

A  hopeless  person  is  one  who  deserts  himself. — 
Berkeley. 

HYDROPATHY. 

One  of  the  happiest  things  ever  said  on  a  dry  sub- 
ject, is  the  following  joke,  perpetrated  by  Charles 


188  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

Lamb.  "  The  water-cure,"  said  he,  "  is  neither  new 
nor  wonderful,  for  it  is  as  old  as  the  Deluge,  which, 
in  my  opinion,  killed  more  than  it  cured" 

A  "HOUSEHOLD  WORD." 

Among  such  as  deal  in  multitudes  of  words,  none 
are  comparable  to  the  sober  deliberate  talker,  who 
proceeds  with  much  thought  and  caution,  makes  his 
preface,  branches  out  into  several  digressions,  finds  a 
hint  that  puts  him  in  mind  of  another  story,  which 
he  promises  to  tell  when  this  is  done ;  comes  back 
regularly  to  his  subject,  cannot  readily  call  to  mind 
some  person's  name,  holding  his  head,  complains  of 
his  memory, — the  whole  company  all  this  while  in 
suspense, — at  length  says,  it  is  no  matter,  and  so  goes 
on.  And,  to  crown  the  business,  it  perhaps  proves 
at  last  a  story  the  company  has  heard  fifty  times 
before;  or,  at  best,  some  insipid  adventure  of  the 
relater. — Swift. 


KNOWING    ONES. 


"  The  most  ignorant  of  the  world's  fools,"  says 
some  one,  "  are  those  called  '  knowing  ones,'  a  phrase 
satirical  with  the  very  glee  of  irony." 


BLUSHES. 


Triumphant  generals  in  Eome  wore  rouge,  in 
order  that  they  might  be  thought  to  be  blushing  at 
the  honours  heaped  upon  them. — Cokridge. 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  189 


LYING, 

The  best  defence  of  lying  that  I  ever  remember  to 
have  read,  is  the  remark  of  Charles  Lamb,  related  by 
Leigh  Hunt,  that  "  Truth  was  precious,  and  not  to  be 
wasted  on  every  body." 

INGREDIENT   OF   HAPPINESS. 

"  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man,"  says  Steele,  "  who 
would  be  true  to  himself,  to  obtain,  if  possible,  a  dis- 
position to  be  pleased." 

WAR. 

It  would  have  proved  a  striking  part  of  a  vision 
presented  to  Adam  the  day  after  the  death  of  Abel, 
to  have  brought  before  his  eyes  half  a  million  of  men 
crowded  together  in  the  space  of  a  square  mile.  "When 
the  first  father  had  exhausted  his  wonder  on  the 
multitude  of  his  offspring,  he  would  then  naturally 
inquire  of  his  angelic  instructor,  for  what  purposes  so 
vast  a  multitude  had  assembled — what  is  the  com- 
mon end  ?  Alas !  to  murder  each  other :  all  Cains, 
and  yet  no  Abels. — Coleridge. 

PLEASURES   OF    THE    TROPICS. 

What  can  be  more  ludicrous  than  the  picture  which 
Sydney  Smith  draws  of  the  "  pleasures"  of  tropical 
life.  "Insects,"  .he .says,  "are  the  curse  of  tropical 
climates.  The  bete-rouge  lays  the  foundation  of  a 
tremendous  ulcer.  In  a  moment  you  are  covered 


190  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

with  ticks.  Chigoes  bury  themselves  in  your  flesh, 
and  hatch  a  large  colony  of  young  chigoes  in  a  few 
hours.  They  will  not  live  together;  but  every  chigoe 
sets  up  a  separate  ulcer,  and  has  his  own  private  por- 
tion of  pus.  Flies  get  entry  into  your  mouth,  into 
your  eyes,  into  your  nose ;  you  eat  flies,  drink  flies, 
and  breathe  flies.  Lizards,  cockroaches,  and  snakes, 
get  into  the  bed ;  ants  eat  up  the  books ;  scorpions 
sting  you  on  the  foot.  Every  thing  bites,  stings,  or 
bruises;  every  second  of  your  existence  you  are 
wounded  by  some  piece  of  animal  life  that  nobody 
has  ever  seen  before,  except  Swammerdam  or  Me- 
riam.  An  insect  with  eleven  legs  is  swimming  in 
your  teacup;  a  nondescript  with  nine  wings  is 
struggling  in  the  small  beer;  or  a  caterpillar,  with 
several  dozen  eyes  in  his  belly,  is  hastening  over  the 
bread  and  butter  !  All  nature  is  alive,  and  seems  to 
be  gathering  all  her  entomological  hosts  to  eat  you 
up,  as  you  are  standing,  out  of  your  coat,  waistcoat, 
and  breeches.  Such  are  the  tropics.  All  this  recon- 
ciles us  to  our  dews,  fogs,  vapours,  and  drizzle ;  to 
our  apothecaries  'rushing  about  with  gargles  arid 
tinctures;  to  our  old  British  constitutional  coughs, 
sore  throats,  and  swelled  faces." 

HINT    TO   BOASTERS. 

The  principle  of  vanity  and  pride  is  so  strong  in 
human  nature,  that  it  descends  even  to  the  lowest 
objects ;  and  one  often  sees  people  angling  for  praise 
where,  admitting  all  they  say  to  be  true,  (which,  by 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  191 

the  way,  it  seldom  is,)  no  just  praise  is  to  be  caught. 
One  man  affirms  that  he  has  rode  post  an  hundred 
miles  in  six  hours :  probably  it  is  a  lie ;  but,  suppo- 
sing it  to  be  true,  what  then?  Why,  he  is  a  very 
good  post-boy — that  is  all.  Another  asserts,  and 
probably  not  without  oaths,  that  he  has  drank  six  or 
eight  bottles  of  wine  at  a  sitting :  out  of  charity,  I 
will  believe  him  a  liar ;  for,  if  I  do  not,  I  must  think 
him  a  beast. — Lord  Chesterfield. 

RAILROAD    TRAVELLING. 

Eailroad  travelling  is  a  <  delightful  improvement 
of  human  life.  Man  is  become  a  bird :  he  can  fly 
longer  and  quicker  than  a  Solan  goose.  The  mamma 
rushes,  sixty  miles  in  two  hours,  to  the  aching  finger 
of  her  conjugating  and  declining  grammar-boy.  The 
early  Scotchman  scratches  himself  in  the  morning 
mists  of  the  North,  and  has  his  porridge  in  Picadilly 
before  the  setting  sun.  The  Puseyite  priest,  after  a 
rush  of  a  hundred  miles,  appears  with  his  little 
volume  of  nonsense  at  the  breakfast  of  his  bookseller. 
Every  thing  is  near,  every  thing  is  immediate ;  time, 
distance,  and  delay,  are  abolished. — /Sydney  Smith. 

WEDDERBURNS    QUOTATION. 

Lord  Loughborough,  when  Mr.  Wedderburn,  once 
acquired  great  applause  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
by  showing  his  familiarity  with  Shakspeare,  by  the 
introduction  of  an  apt  quotation  from  his  works. 
"In  all  my  reading  and  hearing  of  parliamentary 


192  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

debates,"  says  Lord  Campbell,  by  whom  it  is  related, 
"  I  do  not  recollect  a  more  felicitous  one." 

Grenville,  leader  of  the  opposition,  having  brought 
forward  the  bill  for  the  trial  of  controverted  elections, 
it  was  opposed  by  Lord  North  and  the  government ; 
and  the  Attorney-General,  De  Grey,  making  a  speech 
against  it,  thus  concluded  with  a  quotation  from 
Shakspeare :  "  It  is  better  to  endure  the  evils  of 
which  we  know  the  extent,  than  '  fly  to  others  which 
we  know  not  of.' "  Wedderburn,  arising  immediately 
after,  continued  Hamlet's  soliloquy : 

"  And  thus  the  native  hue  of  resolution 
Is  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale  cast  of  thought ; 
And  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment, 
With  this  regard,  their  currents  turn  awry, 
And  lose  the  name  of  action." 

The  bill  was  carried  by  a  large  majority. 

ERSKINE'S  PETS. 

Lord  Erskine  had  always  several  favourite  animals 
to  whom  he  was  much  attached,  and  of  whom  all  his 
acquaintance  had  a  number  of  anecdotes  to  relate. 
Sir  Samuel  Eomilly  has  left  the  following  record  of 
them  in  his  diary.  The  first  was  : — "  A  favourite  dog, 
which  he  used  to  bring,  when  he  was  at  the  bar,  to 
all  his  consultations ;  another  favourite  dog,  which,  at 
the  time  when  he  was  Lord  Chancellor,  he  himself 
rescued  in  the  street  from  some  boys  who  were  about 
to  kill  it  under  pretence  of  being  mad ;  a  favourite 
goose,  which  followed  him  wherever  he  walked  about 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  193 

his  grounds;  a  favourite  macaw;  and  other  dumb 
favourites  without  number.  He  told  us  now  that  he 
had  got  two  favourite  leeches:  he  had  been  blooded 
by  them  last  autumn,  when  he  had  been  taken  danger- 
ously ill  at  Portsmouth ;  they  had  saved  his  life,  and 
he  had  brought  them  with  him  to  town — had  ever 
since  kept  them  in  a  glass — had  himself,  every  day, 
given  them  fresh  water — and  had  formed  a  friendship 
with  them.  He  said  he  was  sure  they  both  knew 
him,  and  were  grateful  to  him.  He  had  given  them 
different  names,  HOME  and  CLINE,  (the  names  of  two 
celebrated  surgeons,)  their  dispositions  being  quite 
different.  After  a  good  deal  of  conversation  about 
them,  he  went  himself,  brought  them  out  of  his 
library,  and  placed  them  in  their  glass  upon  the  table. 
It  is  impossible,  however,  without  the  vivacity,  the 
tones,  the  details,  and  gestures  of  Lord  Erskine,  to 
give  an  adequate  idea  of  this  singular  scene." 

COMMENT   VOUS    PORTEZ-VOUS  ? 

This  little  phrase  of  three  words  (for  the  vous  being 
repeated  only  counts  for  one)  contains  the  very  soul 
of  the  French  character,  their  manners,  their  history  ; 
and  not  only  gives  the  portrait  of  their  Past,  but 
helps  us  to  an  almost  infallible  prognostication  of 
their  Future.  Qualitas  is  monstrously  developed  in 
proportion  to  quidditas.  How  is  the  formula,  not 
what.  He  busies  himself  mainly  with  the  shapes  and 
shows  of  things ;  and  therefore  comment  is  the  prom- 
inent and  leading  stroke  in  that  involuntary  photo- 

17 


194  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

graph,  which  he  strikes  off  fifty  times  a  day.  Then 
the  portez-vous  I  How  do  you  carry  yourself?  Out- 
side externality,  superficial  gingerbread-work,  in  every 
letter  of  it.  An  impressionable,  eager,  restless,  viva- 
cious manner  of  man,  always  ready  to  make  love — 
and  a  droll  sort  of  love  it  is  now-a-days — or  to  cock 
his  cap  over  his  eye,  and  "  mourir  pour  la  patrie ;" 
doing  trivial  things  in  a  solemn  way,  and  solemn 
things  in  a  trivial  one  ;  a  tigre-singe,  as  he  was  called 
by  the  rates  who  knew  him  best,  and  now  and  then  a 
singre-tigre.  Sterne's  old  story  of  the  little  barber 
proposing  to  "emerge  the  wig  in  the  ocean,"  will  be 
true  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  A  vapouring,  active, 
aggressive,  demonstrative  people,  on  whom  little 
things  and  great  make  an  equally  strong  and  equally 
fugitive  impression ;  jesting  commonly  at  every  thing 
except  trifles,  and  never  more  irresistibly  comic  than 
when  trying  with  all  their  might  to  be  serious — for 
instance,  playing  at  constitution-making,  a  spectacle 
that  reminds  one  of  a  party  of  little  Emmies  and 
Carries  playing  at  company.  In  this  Comment  vous 
portez-vous?  one  sees  the  theatrical  character  in  per- 
fection, the  instant  identification  of  the  person  speak- 
ing with  the  person  spoken  to,  which  is  the  definition 
of  the  theatricality. —  Quarterly  Review. 


ENGLISH   LIBERTY. 


The  following  piece  of  pleasant  exaggeration  is 
related  by  Lien  Chi  Altangi,  the  Citizen  of  the  "World, 
to  his  friend  Fum  Hoam : 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  195 

"  A  few  days  ago,  passing  by  one  of  the  London 
prisons,  I  could  not  avoid  stopping,  in  order  to  listen 
to  a  dialogue  which,  I  thought,  might  afford  me  some 
entertainment.  The  conversation  was  carried  on  be- 
tween a  debtor  through  the  grate  of  his  prison,  a 
porter  who  had  stopped  to  rest  his  burthen,  and  a 
soldier  at  the  window.  The  subject  was  upon  a 
threatened  invasion  from  France,  'and  each  seemed 
extremely  anxious  to  rescue  his  country  from  the  im- 
pending danger.  '  For  my  part,'  cries  the  prisoner, 
'  the  greatest  of  my  apprehensions  is  for  our  freedom : 
if  the  French  should  conquer,  what  would  become  of 
English  liberty?  My  dear  friends,  liberty  is  the 
Englishman's  prerogative ;  we  must  preserve  that  at 
the  expense  of  our  lives;  of  that  the  French  shall 
never  deprive  us ;  it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  men 
who  are  slaves  themselves  would  preserve  our  free- 
dom should  they  happen  to  conquer.'  '  Ay,  slaves !' 
cries  the  porter,  '  they  are  all  slaves,  fit  only  to  carry 
burthens,  every  one  of  them.  Before  I  would  stoop 
to  slavery,  may  this  be  my  poison — (and  he  held  the 
goblet  in  his  hand) — may  this  be  my  poison ;  but  I 
would  sooner  list  for  a  soldier !' 

"  The  soldier,  taking  the  goblet  from  his  friend, 
with  much  awe  fervently  cried  out,  'It  is  not  so  much 
our  liberties  as  our  religion  that  would  suffer  by  such 
a  change — aye,  our  religion,  my  lads.  May  the  devil 
sink  me  into  flames,'  (such  was  the  solemnity  of  his 
adjuration,)  '  if  the  French  should  come  over,  but 
our  religion  would  be  utterly  undone.'  So  saying, 


196  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

instead  of  a  libation,  he  applied  tlie  goblet  to  his  lips, 
and  confirmed  his  sentiments  with  a  ceremony  of  the 
most  persevering  devotion." 

THE   HAPPY    MAN 

Is  he  who  distinguishes  the  boundary  between  desire 
and  delight,  and  stands  firmly  on  the  higher  ground  : 
he  who  knows  that  pleasure  is  not  only  not  possession, 
but  is  often  to  be  lost,  and  always  to  be  endangered 
by  it. —  W.  jS.  Landor. 

UNFORTUNATE  MEN. 

There  is  a  certain  sort  of  man  whose  doom  in  the 
world  is  disappointment,  who  excels  in  it,  and  whose 
luckless  triumphs  in  his  meek  career  of  life,  I  have 
often  thought,  must  be  regarded  by  the  kind  eyes 
above  with  as  much  favour  as  the  splendid  successes 
and  achievements  of  coarser  and  more  prosperous 
men. — Thackeray. 

BARRY    AND   BURKE. 

Barry's  residence  in  Castle-street,  though  wearing  a 
decent  aspect  when  he  took  possession,  soon  corres- 
ponded in  look  with  the  outward  man  of  its  master. 
The  worst  inn's  worst  room,  in  which  the  poet  places 
the  expiring  Villiers,  was  equalled,  if  not  surpassed, 
by  that  in  which  Barry  slept,  ate,  and  meditated,  in 
perfect  satisfaction  and  security.  His  whole  charac- 
ter and  whole  system  of  in-door  economy  were  ex- 
hibited in  a  dinner  which  he  gave  to  Mr.  Burke. 


APTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  197 

No  one  was  better  acquainted  with  the  very  singular 
manners  of  this  very  singular  man  than  this  great 
statesman  :  he  wished,  however,  to  have  ocular 
demonstration  how  he  managed  his  household  con- 
cerns in  the  absence  of  wife  or  servant,  and  requested 
to  be  asked  to  dinner.  "  Sir,"  said  Barry,  with  much 
cheerfulness,  "  you  know  I  live  alone ;  but  if  you  will 
come  and  help  me  to  eat  a  steak,  I  shall  have  it 
tender  and  hot,  from  the  most  classic  market  in 
London — that  of  Oxford." 

The  day  and  the  hour  came,  and  Burke,  arriving 
at  Xo.  36  Castle-street,  found  Barry  ready  to  receive 
him.  He  was  conducted  into  the  painting-room, 
which  had  undergone  no  change  since  it  was  a  car- 
penter's shop.  On  one  of  the  walls  hung  his  large  pic- 
ture of  Pandora,  and  round  it  were  placed  the  studies 
of  the  six  pictures  of  the  Adelphi.  There  were,  like- 
wise, old  straining  frames — old  sketches — a  printing- 
press,  in  which  he  printed  his  plates  with  his  own 
hand — the  labours,  too,  of  the  spider  abounded,  and 
rivalled  in  extent  and  colour  pieces  of  old  tapestry. 

Burke  saw  this,  yet  wisely  seemed  to  see  it  not. 
He  observed,  too,  that  most  of  the  windows  were 
broken  or  cracked ;  that  the  roof,  which  had  no  ceil- 
ing, admitted  the  light  through  many  crevices  in  the 
tiling;  and  that  two  old  chairs  and  a  deal  table 
composed  the  whole  of  the  furniture.  The  fire  was 
burning  brightly,  the  steaks  were  put  on  to  broil ; 
and  Barry,  having  spread  a  clean  cloth  on  the  table, 
put  a  pair  of  tongs  in  the  hands  of  Burke,  saying, — 
17* 


198  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

"Be  useful,  my  dear  friend,  and  look  to  the  steaks 
till  I  fetch  the  porter."  Burke  did  as  he  was  desired : 
the  painter  soon  returned  with  the  porter  in  his  hand, 
exclaiming,  "What  a  misfortune!  the  wind  carried 
away  the  fine  foaming  top  as  I  crossed  Titchfield- 
street."  They  sat  down  together.  The  steak  was 
tender,  and  done  to  a  moment.  The  artist  was  full 
of  anecdote ;  and  Burke  often  declared  that  he  never 
spent  a  happier  evening  in  his  life. — Cunningham's 
Painters. 

SMALL    TALK. 

Fuseli,  the  painter,  had  a  great  dislike  to  that  spe- 
cies of  conversation  familiarly  denominated  "  tattle." 
Once,  when  sitting  in  his  room  for  a  long  while, 
amongst  some  trifling  visitors  who  were  discussing 
the  weather,  and  such  like  interesting  subjects,  after 
remaining  for  a  long  time  without  speaking,  he  burst 
forth  with  a — "  We  had  pork  for  dinner  to-day !" 
"Dear!  Mr.  Fuseli,"  exclaimed  one,  "what  an  odd 
remark!"  "  Why,"  replied  he,  "it's  as  good  as  any 
thing  you've  been  saying  for  the  last  hour." 

PATRICK   HENRY. 

A  young  member  of  the  Federal  party,  the  son  of 
an  officer  of  rank,  who  had  been  educated  in  England, 
and  resided  there  during  the  whole  period  of  the 
Revolution,  had  once  the  bad  taste  to  make  a  direct 
set  at  Patrick  Henry.  The  occasion  he  chose  was  in 
reply  to  a  speech  in  which  the  veteran  had  expressed 
his  readiness  "  at  all  times,  and  on  all  occasions,  to 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  199 

bow  with  the  utmost  deference  to  the  majesty  of  the 
people."  Being  endowed  with  a  lively  fancy,  a 
graceful  address,  and  easy,  sprightly  execution,  he 
rang  the  changes  on  these  words  with  considerable 
felicity  through  thirteen  periods,  concluding  each 
period  with  a  bow.  Among  other  things,  he  said, 
"It  was  of  little  importance  whether  a  country  was 
ruled  by  a  despot  with  a  tiara  on  his  head,  or  by  a 
demagogue  in  a  red  cloak  and  a  caul-bare  wig," 
(describing  Henry's  dress,)  "  although  he  should  pro- 
fess on  all  occasions  to  bow  to  the  majesty  of  the 
people." 

Henry  raised  himself  up  heavily,  and  with  affected 
awkwardness.  "Mr.  Speaker,"  said  he,  "I  am  a 
plain  man,  and  have  been  educated  altogether  in 
Virginia.  My  whole  life  has  been  spent  among 
planters,  and  other  plain  men  of  similar  education, 
who  never  had  the  advantage  of  that  polish  which  a 
court  alone  can  give,  and  which  the  gentleman  over 
the  way  has  so  happily  acquired :  indeed,  sir,  the 
gentleman's  employments  and  mine  (in  common  with 
the  great  mass  of  his  countrymen)  have  been  as 
widely  different  as  our  fortunes ;  for,  while  that 
gentleman  was  availing  himself  of  the  opportunity 
which  a  splendid  fortune  afforded  of  acquiring  a 
foreign  education,  mixing  among  the  great,  attending 
levees  and  courts,  basking  in  the  beams  of  royal  favour 
at  St.  James's,  and  exchanging  courtesies  with  crowned 
heads,  I  was  engaged  in  the  arduous  toils  of  the 
revolution,  and  was  probably  as  far  from  thinking 


200  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

of  acquiring  those  polite  accomplishments  which  the 
gentleman  has  so  successfully  cultivated,  as  that  gen- 
tleman then  was  from  sharing  in  the  toils  and  dangers 
in  which  his  unpolished  countrymen  were  engaged.  I 
will  not,  therefore,  presume  to  vie  with  the  gentleman 
in  those  courtly  accomplishments  of  which  he  has 
just  given  the  house  so  agreeable  a  specimen ;  yet 
such  a  bow  as  I  can  make  shall  be  ever  at  the  service 
of  the  people."  Herewith,  although  there  was  no 
man  who  could  make  a  more  graceful  bow  than  Mr. 
Henry,  he  made  one  so  ludicrously  awkward  and 
clownish  as  took  the  house  by  surprise,  and  put  them 
into  a  roar  of  laughter.  "  The  gentleman,  I  hope, 
will  commiserate  the  disadvantages  of  education 
under  which  I  have  laboured,  and  will  be  pleased  to 
remember  that  I  have  never  been  a  favourite  with 
that  monarch  whose  gracious  smile  he  has  had  the 
happiness  to  enjoy."  He  pursued  this  contrast  of 
situations  and  engagements  for  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes  without  a  smile,  and  without  the  smallest 
token  of  resentment,  either  in  countenance,  expres- 
sion, or  manner.  "  You  would  almost  have  sworn," 
says  a  correspondent,  "that  he  thought  himself 
making  his  apology  for  his  own  awkwardness  before 
a  full  drawing-room  at  St.  James'.  I  believe  there 
was  not  a  person  who  heard  him,  the  sufferer  himself 
excepted,  who  did  not  feel  every  risible  nerve  affected. 
His  adversary,  in  the  mean  time,  hung  down  his 
head,  and,  sinking  lower  and  lower  until  he  was 
almost  concealed  behind  the  interposing  forms,  sub- 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  201 

mitted  to  the  discipline  as  quietly  as  a  Russian  male- 
factor, who  had  been  beaten  with  the  knout  till  all 
sense  of  feeling  was  lost." —  Wirt's  Life. 

TRANSMISSION    OF    MONET. 

In  the  bankerless  twelfth  century,  so  great  was  the 
difficulty  of  transmitting  money  from  Spain  to  Rome, 
(which  was  generally  done  by  pilgrims  returning 
from  Santiago,)  that  for  every  ounce  of  gold  brought 
safely  to  the  treasury  of  St.  Peter's,  a  year's  indul- 
gence was  granted  to  the  soul  of  the  bearer  by  the 
infallible  pontiff,  to  whom  no  heresy  was  ever  so 
damnable  as  irregularity  in  the  payment  of  ecclesi- 
astical dues. — Quarterly  Review. 

A    "  CROWNING    MERCY." 

Above  the  river  and  craft,  and  th'e  smoky  quays 
of  the  town,  the  hills  rise  abruptly,  up  which  in- 
numerable cabins  clamber;  on  one  of  them,  by  a 
church,  is  a  round  tower  or  fort,  with  a  flag.  The 
church  is  the  successor  of  one  battered  down  by 
Cromwell  in  1649,  in  his  frightful  siege  of  Drogheda. 
The  place  of  one  of  his  batteries  is  still  marked  out- 
side the  town,  and  known  as  "Cromwell's  Mount." 
He  "  made  the  breach  assaultable,  and,  by  the  help 
of  God,  stormed  it."  He  chose  the  strongest  point  of 
defence  for  his  attack.  After  being  twice  beaten 
back,  by  the  divine  assistance  he  was  enabled  to  suc- 
ceed in  a  third  attack.  He  "knocked  on  the  head"  all 
the  officers  of  the  garrison :  he  gave  orders  that  none 


202  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

of  the  men  should  be  spared.  "  I  think,"  he  says, 
"  that  night  we  put  to  the  sword  two  thousand  men ; 
and  one  hundred  of  them  having  taken  possession  of 
St.  Peter's  steeple,  and  a  round  tower  next  the  gate, 
called  St.  Sunday's,  I  ordered  the  steeple  of  St. 
Peter's  to  be  fired,  where  one  in  the  flames  was  heard 
to  say,  '  God  confound  me,  I  burn,  I  burn !' "  The 
Lord-General's  history  of  "this  great  mercy  vouch- 
safed to  us"  concludes  with  appropriate  religious 
reflections;  and  prays  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of 
Commons  to  remember,  that  "it  is  good  that  God 
alone  have  all  the  glory." — Thackeray. 

SOAME    JENYNS. 

A  disagreement  about  a  name  or  a  date  will  mar 
the  best  story  that  was  ever  put  together.  Sir  Joshua 
Eeynolds  luckily  could  not  hear  an  interrupter  of  this 
sort ;  Johnson  w«nld  not  hear  him,  or,  if  he  heard 
him,  would  not  heed  him ;  Soame  Jenyns  heard  him, 
heeded  him,  set  him  right,  and  took  up  his  tale  where 
he  had  left  it,  without  any  diminution  of  its  humour, 
adding  only  a  few  more  twists  to  his  snuff-box,  a  few 
more  taps  upon  the  lid  of  it,  with  a  preparatory  grunt 
or  two,  the  invariable  forerunners  of  the  amenity  that 
was  at  the  heels  of  them.  He  was  a  man  who  bore 
his  part  in  all  societies  with  the  most  even  temper 
and  undisturbed  hilarity  of  all  the  good  companions 
whom  I  ever  knew.  He  came  into  your  house  at  the 
very  moment  you  had  put  upon  your  card ;  he 
dressed  himself,  to  do  your  party  honour,  in  all  the 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  203 

colours  of  the  jay ;  his  face,  indeed,  had  long  since 
lost  its  lustre,  but  his  coat  had  faithfully  retained  its 
cut  since  the  days  when  gentlemen  wore  embroidered 
figured  velvets  with  short  sleeves,  boot-calfs,  and 
buckram  shirts :  as  Nature  had  cast  him  in  the  exact 
mould  of  an  ill-made  pair  of  stifr»stays,  he  followed 
her  so  close  in  the  fashion  of  his  coat,  that  it  was 
doubted  if  he  did  not  wear  them ;  because  he  had  a 
protuberant  wen  just  under  his  poll,  he  wore  a  wig 
that  did  not  cover  above  half  his  head.  His  eyes 
were  protruded  like  the  eyes  of  the  lobster,  who  wears 
them  at  the  end  of  his  feelers,  and  yet  there  was  room 
between  one  of  these  and  his  nose  for  another  wen, 
that  added  nothing  to  his  beauty :  yet  I  heard  this 
good  man  very  innocently  remark,  when  Gibbon 
published  his  history,  that  he  wondered  any  body  so 
ugly  could  write  a  book. 

Such  was  the  exterior  of  a  man  who  was  the 
charm  of  the  circle,  and  gave  a  zest  to  every  com- 
pany he  came  into.  His  pleasantry  was  of  a  sort 
peculiar  to  himself:  it  harmonized  with  every  thing ; 
it  was  like  the  bread  to  your  dinner,  you  did  not  per- 
haps make  it  the  whole  or  principal  part  of  your  meal, 
but  it  was  an  admirable  and  wholesome  auxiliary  to 
your  other  viands. — Cumberland's  Memoirs. 

HAPPINESS. 

As  the  obtaining  the  love  of  valuable  men  is  the 
happiest  end  I  know  of  in  this  life,  so  the  next  felicity 
is  to  get  rid  of  fools  and  scoundrels. — Pope  to  Swift. 


204  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK, 


AUSTRALIAN   FREAKS    OF    NATURE. 

In  this  remote  part  of  the  earth,  Nature  (having 
made  horses,  oxen,  ducks,  geese,  oaks,  elms,  and  all 
regular  and  useful  productions  for  the  rest  of  the 
world)  seems  determined  to  have  a  bit  of  play,  and 
to  amuse  herself  as  she  pleases.  Accordingly,  she 
makes  cherries  with  the  stone  on  the  outside ;  and  a 
monstrous  animal,  as  tall  as  a  grenadier,  with  the 
head  of  a  rabbit,  a  tail  as  big  as  a  bedpost,  hopping 
along  at  the  rate  of  five  hops  to  a  mile,  with  three  or 
four  young  kangaroos  looking  out  of  its  false  uterus 
to  see  what  is  passing.  Then  comes  a  quadruped  as 
big  as  a  large  cat,  with  the  eyes,  colour,  and  skin  of 
a  mole,  and  the  bill  and  web-feet  of  a  duck — puzzling 
Dr.  Shaw,  and  rendering  the  latter  half  of  his  life 
miserable,  from  his  utter  inability  to  determine 
whether  it  was  a  bird  or  a  beast.  Add  to  this,  a 
parrot  with  the  legs  of  a  sea-gull ;  a  skate  with  the 
head  of  a  shark ;  and  a  bird  of  such  monstrous  di- 
mensions, that  a  side-bone  of  it  will  dine  three  real 
carnivorous  Englishmen:  together  with  many  other 
productions  that  agitate  Sir  Joseph,  and  fill  him  with 
mingled  emotions  of  distress  and  delight. — Sydney 
Smith. 

NATIONAL    CHARACTERISTICS. 

It  has  been  well  said,  by  I  know  not  whom,  that 
an  Englishman  is  never  happy  but  when  he  is  miser- 
able ;  that  a  Scotchman  is  never  at  home,  but  when 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  205 

he  is  abroad ;  that  an  Irishman  is  never  at  peace,  but 
when  he  is  at  war. —  Walker's  Original. 

SNAIL    DINNER. 

Dr.  Black  and  Dr.  Hutton,  the  two  philosophers, 
were  particular  friends.  It  chanced  that  the  two 
doctors  had  held  some  discourse  together  upon  the 
folly  of  abstaining  from  feeding  on  the  testaceous 
creatures  of  the  land,  while  those  of  the  sea  were  con- 
sidered as  delicacies.  Wherefore  not  eat  snails? 
They  are  well  known  to  be  nutritious  and  wholesome 
— even  sanative,  in  some  cases.  In  short,  it  was 
determined  that  a  gastronomic  experiment  should  be 
made  at  the  expense  of  the  snails.  The  snails  were 
procured,  dieted  for  a  time,  then  stewed  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  two  philosophers,  who  had  either  invited  no 
guest  to  their  banquet,  or  found  none  who  relished  in 
prospect  the  piece  de  resistance.  A  huge  dish  of  snails 
was  placed  before  them :  but  philosophers  are  but 
men  after  all ;  and  the  stomachs  of  both  doctors  began 
to  revolt  against  the  proposed  experiment.  Never- 
theless, if  they  looked  with  disgust  on  the  snails, 
they  retained  their  awe  for  each  other ;  so  that  each 
conceiving  the  symptoms  of  internal  revolt  peculiar 
to  himself,  began  with  infinite  exertion  to  swallow,  in 
very  small  quantities,  the  mess  which  he  internally 
loathed.  Dr.  Black,  at  length,  showed  the  white 
feather,  but  in  a  very  delicate  manner,  as  if  to  sound 
the  opinion  of  his  messmate.  "Doctor,"  he  said,  in 
his  precise  and  quiet  manner,  "doctor,  do  not  you 

18 


206  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

think  that  they  taste  a  little,  a  very  little,  green?" 

"  D d  green,    d d  green,  indeed  !    tak  them 

awa,  tak  them  awa !"  vociferated  Dr.  Hutton,  starting 
up  from  the  table,  and  giving  full  vent  to  his  feelings 
of  abhorrence.  And  so  ended  all  hopes  of  introdu- 
cing snails  into  the  modern  cuisine ;  and  thus  philos- 
ophy can  no  more  cure  a  nausea  than  honour  can  set 
a  broken  limb. — Sir  W.  Scott. 

ESTIMATE    OF    HAPPINESS. 

How  often,  says  an  excellent  writer,  do  we  err  in 
our  estimate  of  happiness !  When  I  hear  of  a  man 
who  has  noble  parks,  splendid  palaces,  and  every 
luxury  in  life,  I  always  inquire  whom  he  has  to  love ; 
and,  if  I  find  he  has  nobody,  or  does  not  love  those 
he  has,  in  the  midst  of  all  his  grandeur  I  pronounce 
him  a  being  in  deep  adversity. — Rogers. 

ANECDOTE    OF    DUNNING. 

When  it  was  the  custom  for  barristers  to  leave 
chambers  early,  and  to  finish  their  evening  at  the 
coffee-houses  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  inns  of 
court,  Lord  Thurlow,  on  some  occasion,  wanted  to  see 
Dunning  privately.  He  went  to  the  coffee-house  fre- 
quented by  him,  and  asked  a  waiter  if  Mr.  Dunning 
was  there.  The  waiter,  who  was  new  in  his  place, 
said  he  did  not  know  him.  "  Not  know  him !"  ex- 
claimed Thurlow,  with  his  usual  oaths.  "  Go  into  the 
room  up  stairs,  and  if  you  see  any  gentleman  like  the 
Knave  of  Clubs,  tell  him  he  is  particularly  wanted." 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  207 

The  -waiter  went  up,  and  forthwith  reappeared,  fol- 
lowed by  Dunning. —  Walker's  Original. 

"RULING  PASSION  STRONG  IN  DEATH." 

There  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  those  half 
madmen,  who  are  styled  humorists,  have  indulged 
themselves  so  frequently  in  what  may  be  called 
funeral  freaks,  as  in  England.  An  old  smoker,  who 
died  in  a  workhouse  about  ten  years  ago,  at  the  age 
of  106,  desired  that  his  pipe  might  be  laid  in  his 
coffin.  An  old  fox-hunter  would  be  buried  with  a 
foxj-pad  in  each  hand;  and  had  the  huntsmen  and 
whippers-in  of  all  the  packs  with  which  he  had 
hunted  for  his  mourners.  A  stout  electioneer  gave 
directions  that  his  coffin  should  be  painted  blue,  and 
the  bearers  wear  blue  ribbons.  A  chaise-driver,  who 
had  attained  to  great  eminence  in  that  profession, 
desired  that  he  might  be  interred  as  near  the  turnpike 
road  as  possible,  that  he  might  enjoy  the  satisfaction, 
he  said,  of  hearing  the  carriages  pass.  An  odd  fel- 
low, in  a  higher  rank  of  life,  left  one  penny  to  every 
child  that  should  attend  his  funeral,  a  guinea  to  seven 
old  navigators  (as  canal  men  are  called  in  the  midland 
counties)  for  puddling  him  up  in  his  grave,  and  half- 
a-guinea  to  the  ringers,  to  strike  off  a  peal  of  grand 
bobs  when  they  were  putting  him  in. — Southey. 

SPIRIT    OF    RELIGION. 

Depend  upon  it,  religion  is,  in  its  essence,  the 
most  gentlemanly  thing  in  the  world.  It  will  alone 


208  AFTER- DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

gentilize,  if  unmixed  with  cant ;  and  I  know  nothing 
else  that  will  alone. —  Coleridge. 

HIDDEN    GREATNESS. 

Compute  the  chances, 

And  deem  there's  ne'er  a  one  in  dangerous  times 
Who  wins  the  race  of  glory,  but  than  him 
A  thousand  men,  more  gloriously  endowed, 
Have  fallen  upon  the  course ;  a  thousand  others 
Have  had  their  fortunes  foundered  by  a  chance, 
Whilst  lighter  barks  pushed  past  them ;  to  whom  add 
A  smaller  tally  of  the  singular  few, 
Who,  gifted  with  predominating  powers, 
Bear  yet  a  temperate  will,  and  keep  the  peace.  » 

The  world  knows  notliing  of  its  greatest  men. 

— ^Philip  Van  Artewlde. 

^ 
THE    CANT    OF    CRITICISM, 

Of  whom  Dr.  Parr  might  be  happy  to  say,  that 
they  have  profundity  without  obscurity,  perspicuity 
without  prolixity,  ornament  without  glare,  terseness 
without  barrenness,  penetration  without  subtlety, 
comprehensiveness  without  digression,  and  a  great 
number  of  other  things  without  a  great  number  of 
other  things. — Sydney  Smith. 

RELIEF    TO    IRELAND. 

In  Swift's  works  is  a  piece  of  grave  irony,  entitled, 
"A  modest  proposal  for  preventing  the  children  of 
poor  people  in  Ireland  from  being  a  burden  to  their 
parents  or  country,  and  for  making  them  beneficial 
to  the  public."  "It  is  a  melancholy  object,"  he 


AFTER-DINNER.     TABLE-TALK.  ,          209 

remarks  in  commencement,  "  to  those  who  walk 
through  this  great  town,  (Dublin,)  or  travel  in  the 
country,  when  they  see  the  streets,  the  roads,  and 
cabin  doors  crowded  with  beggars  of  the  female  sex, 
followed  by  three,  four,  or  six  children,  all  in  rags, 
and  importuning  every  passenger  for  an  alms.  These 
mothers,  instead  of  being  able  to  work  for  their 
honest  livelihood,  are  forced  to  employ  all  their  time 
in  strolling  to  beg  sustenance  for  their  helpless  infants, 
who,  as  they  grow  up,  either  turn  thieves  for  want  of 
work,  or  leave  their  dear  native  country  to  fight  for 
the  Pretender  in  Spain,  or  to  sell  themselves  to  the 
Barbadoes. 

"As  to  my  own  part,"  he  continues,  "having 
turned  my  thoughts  for  many  years  upon  this  import- 
ant subject,  and  maturely  weighed  the  several  schemes 
of  our  projectors,  I  have  always  found  them  grossly 
mistaken.  I  shall  now,  therefore,  humbly  propose 
my  own  thoughts,  which  I  hope  will  not  be  liable  to 
the  least  objection. 

"  I  have  been  assured  by  a  very  knowing  Ameri- 
can of  my  acquaintance  in  London,  that  a  young 
healthy  child,  well  nursed,  is  at  a  year  old  a  most 
delicious,  nourishing,  and  wholesome  food,  whether 
stewed,  roasted,  baked,  or  boiled;  and  I  make  no 
doubt  that  it  will  equally  serve  in  a  fricassee  or 
ragout. 

"A  child  will  make  two  dishes  at  an  entertain- 
ment for  friends ;  and,  when  the  family  dines  alone, 
the  fore  or  hind  quarter  will  make  a  reasonable  dish, 
IS* 


210  AFTER-DINNER    TA~BLE-TALK. 

and,  seasoned  with  a  little  pepper  or  salt,  will  be  very 
good  boiled  on  the  fourth  day,  especially  in  winter. 
I  have  reckoned  upon  a  medium  that  a  child  just 
born  will  weigh  12  pounds,  and  in  a  solar  year,  if 
tolerably  nursed,  will  increase  to  28  pounds.  I  grant 
this  f<3od  will  be  somewhat  dear,  and  therefore  very 
proper  for  landlords,  who,  as  they  have  already  de- 
voured most  of  the  parents,  seem  to  have  the  best 
title  to  the  children. 

"  Those  who  are  more  thrifty  (as  I  must  confess 
the  times  require)  may  flay  the  carcass,  the  skin  of 
which,  artificially  dressed,  will  make  admirable 
gloves  for  ladies,  and  summer  boots  for  fine  gentle- 
men. 

"  As  to  our  city  of  Dublin,  shambles  may  be  ap- 
pointed for  this  purpose  in  the  most  convenient  parts 
of  it,  and  butchers,  we  may  be  sure,  will  not  be  want- 
ing ;  although  I  rather  recommend  buying  the  chil- 
dren alive,  then  dressing  them  hot  from  the  knife,  as 
we  do  roasting  pigs. 

"  It  is  not  improbable  that  some  scrupulous  people 
might  be  apt  to  censure  such  a  practice,  (although  in- 
deed very  unjustly,)  as  a  little  bordering  on  cruelty, 
which,  I  confess,  has  always  been  with  me  the  strong- 
est objection  against  any  project,  how  well  soever 
intended." 

After  enumerating  the  various  advantages  which 
would  accrue  from  the  adoption  of  his  scheme,  he 
concludes  by  avowing  his  disinterestedness  in  the 
matter,  "having  no  other  motive  than  the  public 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  211 

good  of  my  country,  by  advancing  our  trade,  provi- 
ding/or infants,  relieving  the  poor,  and  giving  some 
pleasure  to  the  rich.  I  have  no  children  by  which  I 
can  propose  to  get  a  single  penny,  the  youngest  being 
nine  years  old." 

Such  is  the  fineness  of  Swift's  irony,  that  it  is  said 
a  foreign  author  actually  considered  the  proposal  as 
serious,  and  quoted  it  as  an  instance  of  the  destitution 
under  which  Ireland  laboured. 

A    HARD    CASE. 

Sir  Francis  Head,  speaking  of  a  certain  fat  man, 
says :  "  Often  and  often  have  I  pitied  Diogenes  for 
having  lived  in  a  tub ;  but  this  poor  ambassador  is 
infinitely  worse  off,  for  the  tub,  it  is  too  evident, 
lives  in  him." 

TRUE    RICHES. 

There  is  no  absolute  poverty  without  poverty  of 
spirit.  The  sunshine  of  the  mind  gives  only  the 
bright  side.  He  who  lives  under  its  influence  is 
courted  by  all  men,  and  may,  if  he  willt  enjoy  their 
goods  without  their  troubles.  The  world  is,  as  it 
were,  held  in  trust  for  him;  and,  in  freedom  from 
care,  he  is  alone  entitled  to  be  called  a  gentleman. 
He  is  the  most  independent  of  all  men,  because  for- 
tune has  the  least  power  over  him.  He  is  the  only 
man  that  is  free  and  unfettered ;  he  may  do  what  he 
pleases,  and  nothing  is  expected  from  him.  He 
escapes  importunity  and  flattery,  and  feels  a  perpetual 


212  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

consciousness  that  he  is  not  sought  but  for  himself. 
Suspicion  of  motives  never  chills  his  confidence,  nor 
withers  his  enjoyment.  He  has  an  enriching  power 
within  himself,  which  makes  his  outward  wants 
easily  supplied  with  industry  and  prudence,  without 
the  necessity  of  anxious  toil.  A  little  is  his  enough, 
and  beyond  an  encumbrance. —  Walker's  Original, 

FENELON. 

Lord  Peterborough,  after  a  visit  to  Fenelon,  said, 
"  He  was  cast  in  a  particular  mould,  that  was  never 
used  for  any  body  else ;  he  is  a  delicious  creature ! 
But  I  was  forced  to  get  away  from  him  as  fast  as  I 
could,  else  he  would  have  made  me  pious." — /Spence's 
Anecdotes. 

ANECDOTE    OF   JOHN   ADAMS. 

"  When  John  Adams  was  a  young  man,  he  was 
invited  to  dine  with  the  Court  and  Bar  at  the  house 
of  Judge  Paine,  an  eminent  loyalist,  at  Worcester. 
When  the  wine  was  circulated  round  the  table,  Judge 
Paine  gave  as  a  toast  "the  King."  Some  of  the 
Whigs  were  about  to  refuse  to  drink  it ;  but  Mr. 
Adams  whispered  to  them  to  comply,  saying,  "We 
shall  have  an  opportunity  to  return  the  compliment." 
At  length,  when  John  Adams  was  desired  to  give  a 
toast,  he  gave  "  the  Devil."  As  the  host  was  about 
to  resent  the  supposed  indignity,  his  wife  calmed  him, 
and  turned  the  laugh  upon  Mr.  Adams  by  imme- 
diately saying,  "  My  dear,  as  the  gentleman  has  seen 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  213 

fit  to  drink  to  our  friend,  let  us  by  no  means  refuse, 
in  our  turn,  to  drink  to  his." 

A    CONTRAST. 

Sydney  Smith,  in  remarking  upon  the  folly  of  a 
scheme  for  creating  livings  of  £150  a  year,  with  the 
expectation  of  their  being  filled  with  good  and  well- 
educated  preachers,  draws  with  his  ready  wit  the 
following  pictures  of  a  member  of  the  "  collection  of 
consecrated  beggars." 

"  Then  a  picture  is  drawn  of  a  clergyman  with 
£130  per  annum,  who  combines  all  moral,  physical, 
and  intellectual  advantages,  a  learned  man,  dedicating 
himself  intensely  to  the  care  of  his  parish,  of  charming 
manners  and  dignified  deportment,  six  feet  two  inches 
high,  beautifully  proportioned,  with  a  magnificent 
countenance,  expressive  of  all  the  cardinal  virtues 
and  the  Ten  Commandments — and  it  is  asked,  with 
an  air  of  triumph,  if  such  a  man  as  this  will  fall  into 
contempt  on  account  of  his  poverty  ?  But  substitute 
for  him  an  average,  ordinary,  uninteresting  minister  ; 
.obese,  dumpy,  neither  ill-natured  nor  good-natured, 
neither  learned  nor  ignorant,  striding  over  the  stiles 
to  church,  with  a  second-rate  wife — dusty  and  deli- 
quescent— and  four  parochial  children,  full  of  cate- 
chism and  bread  and  butter ;  or  let  him  be  seen  in 
one  of  those  Shem-Ham-and-Japhet  buggies — made 
on  Mount  Ararat  soon  after  the  subsidence  of  the 
waters — driving  in  the  High-street  of  Edmonton  ; 
among  all  hh  pecuniary,  saponaceous,  oleaginous 


214  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

parishioners.  Can  any  man  of  common  sense  say 
that  all  these  outward  circumstances  of  the  ministers 
of  religion  have  no  bearing  on  religion  itself  ?" 

CONSEQUENCES   AND    CAUSES. 

There  is  no  action  of  rnan  in  this  life  which  is  not 
the  beginning  of  so  long  a  chain  of  consequences,  as 
that  no  human  providence  is  high  enough  to  give  us 
a  prospect  to  the  end. — Hobbes. 

Southey,  quoting  this,  observes:  "Although  the 
chain  of  consequences  be  so  long,  I  will  venture  to 
say  that  the  chain  of  causes  is  longer." 

OTHER- WORLDLINESS. 

As  there  is  a  worldliness,  or  the  too-much  of  this 
life,  so  there  is  another- worldliness,  or  rather  other 
worldliness,  equally  hateful  and  selfish  with  this- 

worldliness. — Coleridge. 

• 

BEGGING    THE    QUESTION. 

In  the  minds  of  some  men,  (not  to  say  the  bulk  of 
men,)  if  you  set  about  proving  the  truth  of  a  proposi- 
tion, you  rather  weaken  than  strengthen  their  persua- 
sion of  it.  Assume  the  truth  of  it,  and  build  upon 
it  as  indisputable,  you  do  more  towards  rivetting 
them  to  it  than  you  could  do  by  direct  assertion, 
supported  by  any  of  the  clearest  and  strongest  proofs. 
By  assuming  it  as  true,  you  hold  up  to  their  eyes  the 
view  of  that  universal  assent,  or  assent  equivalent 
to  universal,  (dissenters  being  left  out  of  the  account,) 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  215 

•which,  from  your  assumption,  they  take  for  granted 
has  been  given  to  it.  You  represent  all  men,  or 
(what  comes  to  the  same  thing)  all  men  whose  opin- 
ions are  worth  regarding,  as  joining  in  the  opinion : 
and  by  this  means,  besides  the  argument  you  present 
to  the  intellectual  part  of  their  frame,  you  present  to 
its  neighbour  the  conditional  part,  another  sort  of 
argument,  constituted  by  the  fear  of  incurring  the  in- 
dignation or  contempt  of  all  reasonable  men,  by  pre- 
suming to  disbelieve  or  doubt  what  all  reasonable 
men  are  assured  of. — Jeremy  Bentham. 

FALSE  POSITIONS. 

If  you  choose  to  represent  the  various  parts  in 
life  by  holes  upon  a  table,  of  different  shapes — some 
circular,  some  triangular,  some  square,  some  oblong — 
and  the  persons  acting  these  parts  by  bits  of  wood  of 
similar  shapes,  we  shall  generally  find  that  the  trian- 
gular person  has  got  into  the  square  hole,  the  oblong 
into  the  triangular,  and  a  square  person  has  squeezed 
himself  into  the  round  hole.  The  officer  and  the 
office,  the  doer  and  the  thing  done,  seldom  fit  so 
exactly  that  we  can  say  they  were  made  for  each 
other. — Sydney  Smith. 

TREAD   OF    THE   CAMEL. 

What  always  struck  me  as  something  extremely 
romantic  and  mysterious,  was  the  noiseless  step  of  the 
camel,  from  the  spongy  nature  of  his  foot ;  whatever 
be  the  substance  of  the  ground — sand,  or  rock,  or 


216  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

turf,  or  paved  stones — you  hear  no  footfall ;  you  see 
an  immense  animal  approaching  you,  stilly  as  a  cloud 
floating  on  air ;  and,  unless  he  wear  a  bell,  your  sense 
of  hearing,  acute  as  it  may  be,  will  give  you  no  inti- 
mation of  his  presence. — Macfarlane. 

WHALES    IN    BROBDINAG. 

Now  and  then  they  take  a  whale  that  happens 
to  be  dashed  against  the  rocks,  which  the  common 
people  feed  on  heartily.  These  whales  I  have  known 
so  large  that  a  man  could  hardly  carry  one  upon  his 
shoulder;  and  sometimes,  for  a  curiosity,  they  are 
brought  in  hampers  to  Lorbrul  Grub.  I  saw  one  of 
them  in  a  dish  at  the  king's  table,  which  passed  for  a 
rarity,  but  I  did  not  observe  he  was  fond  of  it,  for  I 
think  the  bigness  disgusted  him;  although  I  have 
seen  one  larger  in  Greenland. — Swift. 

LIFE. 

The  web  of  our  life  is  of  a  mingled  yarn,  good  and 
ill  together :  our  virtues  would  be  proud  if  our  faults 
whipped  them  not,  and  our  crimes  would  despair  if 
they  were  not  cherished  by  our  virtues. — All's  Well 
that  Ends  Well 

DESIRES. 

How  ridiculous  a  play  would  be  of  which  a  hun- 
gry man  were  the  hero  I  Why  ? — because  we  never 
suffer  from  extreme  hunger,  and  have  very  little  sym- 
pathy for  it ;  there  is  hardly  any  such  thing  known  in 


AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK.  217 

civilized  society :  the  author  himself  would,  probably, 
be  the  only  man  in  the  whole  playhouse  who  had 
ever  seriously  felt  the  want  of  a  dinner.  But  if  a  na- 
tion of  savages  were  to  see  such  a  drama  acted,  they 
would  see  no  ridicule  in  it  at  all ;  because  starving 
to  death  is,  among  them,  no  uncommon  thing :  they 
are  advanced  such  a  little  way  in  civilization,  that  to 
fill  their  stomachs  is  the  great  and  important  object 
of  life :  and  I  have  no  doubt  that,  to  an  Indian  audi- 
ence, the  loss  of  a  piece  of  venison  might  be  the  basis 
of  a  tragedy  which  would  fill  every  eye  with  tears ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  they  might  be  very  likely  to 
laugh,  to  hear  a  man  complain  of  his  wounded  hon- 
our, if  it  turned  out  that  he  had  ten  days'  provision 
beforehand  in  his  cabin.  In  the  same  manner  the 
loss  of  a  leg  is  the  consummation  of  all  evil,  where 
there  is  nothing  but  body;  but  it  becomes  an  evil 
of  the  lowest  order,  where  there  remain  behind  the 
pleasures  of  imagination,  of  elegant  learning,  of  the 
fine  arts,  of  all  the  luxuries  and  glories  of  civiliza- 
tion.— Sydney  Smith. 

INTELLECT    IN   TALL    MEN. 

Ofttimes  such  who  are  built  four  stories  high,  are 
observed  to  have  very  little  in  their  cockloft. — Fuller. 

WIIITEFIELD. 

Somebody  inquired  of  Lady  Townsend,  whether 
it  were  true  that  Whiten* eld  had  recanted:  "No,"  said 
she,  "he  has  only  canted.1' 

" 


218  AFTER-DINNER     TABLE-TALK. 

ANECDOTE    OF   POPE,    THE   ACTOR. 

Pope,  the  actor,  well  known  for  his  devotion  to 
the  culinary  art,  received  an  invitation  to  dinner, 
accompanied  by  an  apology  for  the  simplicity  of  the 
intended  fare — a  small  turbot  and  a  boiled  edge-bone 
of  beef.  "The  very  thing  of  all  others  that  I  like," 
exclaimed  Pope;  "I  will  come  with  the  greatest 
pleasure."  And  come  he  did,  and  eat  he  did,  till  he 
could  literally  eat  no  longer;  when  the  word  was 
given,  and  a  haunch  of  venison  was  brought  in,  fit  to 
be  made  the  subject  of  a  new  poetical  epistle — 

"  For  finer  or  fatter, 

Never  ranged  in  a  forest,  or  smoked  in  a  platter, 
The  haunch  was  a  picture  for  painters  to  study, 
The  fat  was  so  •white,  and  the  lean  -was  so  ruddy." 

Poor  Pope  divined  at  a  glance  the  nature  of  the 
trap  that  had  been  laid  for  him,  but  he  was  fairly 
caught,  and  after  a  puny  effort  at  trifling  with  a  slice 
of  fat,  he  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and  gave  way 
to  a  hysterical  burst  of  tears,  exclaiming — "A  friend 
of  twenty  years'  standing,  and  to  be  served  in  this 
manner!" — Quarterly  Review. 

ORIGINALITY. 

To  mind  the  inside  of  a  book  is  to  entertain  one's- 
self  with  the  forced  product  of  another  man's  brain. 
Now,  I  think,  a  man  of  quality  and  breeding  may  be 
much  amused  by  the  natural  sprouts  of  his  own. — 
The  Relapse. 


AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK.  219 

NOTHING   TO   DO. 

Positively,  the  best  tiling  a  man  can  have  to  do  is 
nothing,  and,  next  to  that,  perhaps,  good  works. — 
Lamb. 

HOLY   BULLIES. 

How  true  it  is  of  too  many  preachers,  that  which 
Sydney  Smith  says  of  Dr.  Eennel,  "  that  he  h  too 
apt  to  put  on  the  appearance  of  a  holy  bully,  as  if  he 
could  carry  his  point  against  infidelity  by  big  words 
and  strong  abuse,  and  kick  and  cuff  men  into  Chris- 
tians." 

THE   EARTH. 

The  following  is  a  genuine  fragment  presented  to 
us  by  Cicero,  from  a  lost  work  of  Aristotle. 

If  there  were  beings  who  lived  in  the  depths  of 
the  earth,  in  dwellings  adorned  with  statues  and 
paintings,  and  every  thing  which  is  possessed  in  rich 
abundance  by  those  whom  we  esteem  fortunate ;  and 
if  these  beings  could  receive  tidings  of  the  power  and 
might  of  the  gods,  and  could  then  emerge  from  their 
hidden  dwellings  through  the  open  fissures  of  the 
earth  to  the  places  which  we  inhabit ;  if  they  could 
suddenly  behold  the  earth,  and  the  sea,  and  the  vault 
of  heaven ;  could  recognize  the  expanse  of  the  cloudy 
firmament,  and  the  might  of  the  winds  of  heaven,  and 
admire  the  sun  in  his  majesty,  beauty,  and  radiant 
effulgence;  and,  lastly,  when  night  veiled  the  earth 
in  darkness,  they  could  behold  the  starry  heavens, 


220  AFTER-DINNER    TABLE-TALK. 

the  changing  moon,  and  the  stars  rising  and  setting 
in  the  unvarying  course  ordained  from  eternity,  they 
would  surely  exclaim,   "  There  are  gods,  and  such 
great  things  must  be  the  work  of  their  hands."- 
Cosmos. 


Accession  to  the  Throne Lord  Lyttleton's  Letters 174 

Action Hazlitt 30 

Adums,  Anecdotes  of. 212 

Affectation  of  Grandeur Seneca 15 

Almanacs The  Doctor 93 

American  Ice 28 

Ancestry Sir  Thomas  Overbury 60 

Anglers 15 

Antiquity  of  Agriculture Cowley 43 

Apes Southey ,    47 

Applicable  to  Idlers Sydney  Smith 76 

Atterbury's  Wit King's  Memoirs 30 

Australian  Freaks  of  Nature Sydney  Smith 204 

Bad  Translators Madame  La  Fayette 31 

Barry  and  Burke Cunningham 196 

Bathurst  Lord 182 

Begging  the  Question Bentham 214 

Best  Kind  of  Acid 52 

Best  Style,  The The  Doctor.— Swift. 51 

Blushes Coleridge 188 

Boasters,  Hint  to Chesterfield -. 190 

Boiled  Mutton 168 

Book-Madness The  Doctor. 119 

Bores Byron 32 

Brandy-and-water Charles  Lamb 37 

Brevity Jforris 52 

Bulls Sydney  Smith 67 

Burning  Chimney-sweep Sydney  Smith 48 

Butler's  Wit 49 

Butts Steele. 140 

Cannibals 43 

Change  of  Dynasties Sydney  Smith 163 

19* 


222  INDEX. 

Page 

Changing  Hats Life  of  Nollekens 165 

Charity  of  a  Miser Hood 81 

Charades Sydney  Smith 76 

Children  '....Southey 52 

Choice  of  Books Hooker 63 

Classical  Glory Sydney  Smith 75 

Class  of  Conversationalists Swift 71 

Classification  of  Novels Southey 59 

Clerical  Fops Sydney  Smith 38 

Clever  Nonsense Foote 184 

Coleridge  and  the  Jews Coleridge's  Table-Talk 79 

Comment  vous  portez-vous  ? Quarterly  Review 193 

Conversation Scott 65 

Art  of. Various 133 

of  Philosophers Coleridge 55 

Cold,  A Lamb 15 

Consequences  and  Causes Southey 211 

Contrast,  A Sydney  Smith 213 

Cookery  and  Astronomy Quarterly  Review 150 

Critu  ism,  Cant  of Sydney  Smith 208 

"  Cro  vning  Mercy,"  A Thackeray 201 

Cultiv  ition  of  the  Mental  Powers Sir  Egerton  Brydges 173 

Curates Sydney  Smith 64 

Curiosity Fuller 37 

Curious  Remark  on  Vanity Franklin 31 

Curran 28 

Eloouence  of 171 

Dangerous  Fools Sydney  Smith 180 

Definition  of  Timber 107 

Delicate  Praise 19 

Desires Sydney  Smith 210 

Difference  of  Opinion Sir  Thomas  Browne 54 

Difficult  Questions Lamb 17 

Dilatory  Inclinations 179 

Dinner-party,  A Sydney  Smith 44 

Dirty  Hands 78 

Discretion Swift 42 

Do  Good Coleridge 185 

Domestic  Happiness Pope 182 

Duelling Sydney  Smith 47 

Dullness Tom  Brown 45 

Dunning,  Anecdote  of Walker 206 

Earth,  The Aristotle.. 216 


INDEX.  223 

p«g» 

Edgeworth,  Richard  L. Sydney  Smith 61 

Education Sterling 171 

at  Botany  Bay Sydney  Smith 173 

Elegance Hailitt 61 

Em  phatic  Oath 142 

Empty  Minds Fuller 48 

Empty  and  Crowded  Church Charles  Lamb 50 

English  After-dinner  Speeches Mew  Monthly  Magazine 86 

•      Conversation England  and  the  English 21 

and  French  Suicides Bulwer 137 

German Flood 94 

Language. The  Doctor 46 

Liberty Goldsmith 194 

Men Edinburgh  Review 57 

Enjoying  and  Possessing Berkeley 139 

Enjoyment  of  Life • Sydney  Smith 59 

Ennui  and  Travel Eothen 165 

Erski ne's  Pets. Rnmilly 192 

Essays  on  Taste The  Doctor 50 

Evenings  at  Holland  House. Maeaulay 101 

"Every  Man's  House  his  Castle" Lord  Chatham 38 

False  Positions. Sydney  Smith 215 

Fashionable  Life. Jeffrey, 186 

Fastidious  Tastes. The  Doctor. 47 

Fate  of  Poets    Byron 64 

Female  Education. Sydney  Smith 172 

Fenelon 212 

Fievee,  Mr. „ Sydney  Smith 56 

Fine  Speaking Lady  Temple 129 

Flattering  Epitaphs 135 

Fleas Eothen 158 

Flogging  at  School The  Doctor 44 

Foote's  Wooden  Leg George  Caiman 180 

Four  Ingredients  in  Conversation Sir  William  Temple 94 

Francis,  Sir  Philip Brougham 32 

French  Language,  The Quarterly  Review 105 

Frightful  to  Think  of Sydney  Smith 161 

Fugitive  Verses Pope 78 

Frenchmen Coleridge 112 

Gain  of  a  Loss Montaigne 96 

Genius  and  Common  Understanding Swift 18 

Gentleman Butler 141 

Gentleman's  Magazine The  Doctor 25 


224  INDEX. 

Pago 

Gil  Bias 163 

Good  Actions Lamb 81 

Dinner,  A Lord  Dudley 170 

Rule St.  John..... ...". 174 

Stomach -..Beaumont  and  Fletcher 58 

Great  Men Brougham 54 

«  Great  Vulgar,"  The Hurd 10 

Habitual  Bore Sydney  Smith 16 

Hamilton,  Alexander Daniel  Webster 25 

Handwriting Hood 70 

Happy  Character Lyttleton's  Letters 19 

Epithet,  The 31 

Man,  The Landor 196 

Happiness Pope 203 

Ingredient  of Steele 189 

Art  of. Sharp 131 

Estimate  of. Rogers 206 

Hard,  Case  A Sir  F.  Head 211 

Healthy  Man,  The Hood 33 

Henderson,  the  Actor Ill 

Heraldry  v.  Agriculture Cowley 20 

Hidden  Greatness Taylor 208 

Hill,  Thomas Quarterly  Review 23 

Hint  to  Authors Defoe 129 

Holy  Bullies Sydney  Smith 210 

Holt,  Lord  Chief  Justice Defoe 125 

Hook's  Hoaxing Barham 84 

Hopeless  People Berkeley 187 

"Household  Word,"  A Swift 188 

Human  Abilities Sir  William  Temple 100 

Life Sir  William  Temple 45 

Humour  and  Genius Coleridge 118 

Hydropathy Lamb 187 

Hypocrisy  of  a  Lord  Chancellor.. Breugham 100 

IL Guesses  at  Truth 130 

Idleness Burke 53 

Ill-natured  Persons Izaak  Walton 48 

Impertinence  of  an  Opinion Sydney  Smith 110 

Indestructibility  of  Enjoyment Sydney  Smith 69 

Industry 14!) 

Infants Fuller 42 

Influence  of  Women Capt.  Marryat 122 

Intellect  in  Tall  Men Fuller...                              ..  217 


• 


INDEX.  225 

p«g» 

Intelligibility 42 

Interruption,  An Coleridge 97 

Invitation  to  Dinner Moore 177 

Italian  Dinner Matthews 154 

John  Bull Sydney  Smith 156 

Johnson's  Club-room Maeaulay 176 

Kemble,  John Coleridge 121 

King  of  Ceylon Sydney  Smith 86 

Knowing  Ones 188 

Labour  of  Idleness Tom  Brown 100 

Lamb,  Charles Hood 120 

Late  Hours 51 

Libraries Bacon 15 

Licensed  Jester Edinburgh  Review 88 

Life Matthews 148 

Shakspeare 216 

Life's  Second  Morning Barbauld 170 

Literary  Entertainment Menage 45 

Living  in  the  World Walpole 74 

Love  of  Literature Sir  John  Herschel 80 

Littleness Cawley 16 

Money Rivarol 69 

of  the  Wonderful Shaftesbury 37 

Lovers  of  Literature The  Doctor 58 

Losing  Time Coleridge's  Letters^  Sre 19 

Lying Swift 38 

Lamb.. 189 

Mackintosh,  Sir  James Sydney  Smith 122 

Mark  of  Genius Johnson 69 

Masculineness  and  Effeminacy Guesses  at  Truth 146 

Materialism 93 

Mathematical  Sailors 178 

Matthews'  Deceptive  Powers 76 

Mechanical  Duty 28 

Men  and  Beasts Sydney  Smith 143 

Middle  Station,  The Robinson  Crusoe 131 

Mind  and  Body 36 

Miscellaneous  Writing Shaftesbury 133 

Misers Charles  Lamb 39 

Mistake  on  Both  Sides 41 

Moderation Fuller 53 


226  INDEX. 

Pago 

Monk  Lewis'  Tragedy  of  Alfonso Sydney  Smith 21 

Montaigne's  Plagiarising 78 

Mortality Fuller 51 

Moving Charles  Lamb 20 

Napoleon Matthews 150 

Narrow  Minds 107 

Narrow-minded  Person 47 

Persons Sydney  Smith 151 

National  Characteristics Walker 204 

Nature Sir  Thomas  Browne 53 

Natural  Curiosities  of  Ceylon Sydney  Smith 89 

Necessities Quarterly  Review 163 

New  Light,  A Coleridge 164 

North,  Lord Brougham 82 

Charles  Butler 155 

Notes  of  Admiration 52 

Nothing  to  Do Charles  Lamb 219 

Oats  in  Scotland 176 

Odd  Parallel Southey 96 

Odds  and  Ends Guesses  at  Truth 139 

Official  Dress Sydney  Smith 98 

Old  Angels 52 

—  Beauties 100 

Opinion Bulwer 65 

Opposite  Minds Sydney  Smith 145 

Originality VanburgK's  Relapse 218 

Other-worldliness Coleridge 214 

Pamphlets  and  Ballads Setden1*  Table-Talk 60 

Parasites Sydney  Smith 120 

Parliamentary  Jokes The.  Doctor 107 

Passing  One's  Time Cowley 14 

Patriotism 71 

Patrick  Henry Wirt 198 

Paying  for  Things Charles  Lamb 96 

Pedantry Swift 126 

Penitents,  The Modern  Orlando 159 

Perkins,  Mr.,  the  Divine Fuller 43 

Pickpocket 92 

Pitt  and  Walpole 173 

Plain  Truth Bulwer 39 

Playing  Cards Guesses  at  Truth 104 

Pleasant  Times Hobbcs 28 


INDEX.  227 

P»ge 

Pleasant  Times Sydney  Smith 107 

Pleasing  the  Public The  Doctor 75 

Pleasures  of  a  Bookworm The  Doctor 77 

London Charles  Lamb 24 

Old  Age Lady  Willoughby's  Diary 160 

the  Tropics Sydney  Smith 189 

Pockets The  Doctor 63 

Pope,  the  Actor,  Anecdote  of. Quarterly  Review 104 

and  Garrick 144 

and  Swift 77 

Pope's  Compliments 33 

Popular  Fallacy Bulwer 57 

Power  of  Habit,  The 49 

Preaching  Damnation Selden's  Table-  Talk 57 

and  Practice 68 

to  the  Poor The  Doctor 99 

Presents Charles  Lamb 41 

Prison  Retirement Sydney  Smith 119 

Private  Family  History The  Doctor 47 

Protestant  Church 49 

Pulpit  Eloquence Sydney  Smith 105 

Punch The  Doctor 71 

Pun  of  Hook Ill 

Punning  Translation 107 

Puns Sydney  Smith 72 

Pyramids,  The Fuller 55 

Raillery Swift 13 

Railroad  Travelling Sydney  Smith 191 

Randolph,  John 47 

Real  Manners Swift. 46 

Red-haired  Men Sydney  Smith 169 

Relief  to  Ireland Swift 208 

Religion,  Spirit  of. Coleridge 207 

Religious  Intolerance Sydney  Smith 163 

Persecution Sydney  Smith 97 

Reserved  Persons Horace  Walpole 87 

Retirement The  Doctor 87 

Retiring  to  the  Country Sydney  Smith 81 

Rise  and  Fall  of  Kingdoms JUiddleton 168 

Rogues Fielding 149 

Roman  Banquets Quarterly  Review 73 

Rousseau  and  Madame  d'Epinay Sydney  Smith 79 

Royal  Saying 108 

Reynolds',  Sir  Joshua,  Dinners Forster's  Life  of  Goldsmith.. ,.  181 


228  INDEX. 

Pago 

Ruling  Passion Soitthey 207 

Satire  and  Satirists Sharp 185 

Scolding  and  Quarrelling Charles  Lamb 47 

School  Learning The  Doctor 54 

Masters The  Doctor C3 

Recollections Thackeray 93 

Scotch  and  Irish 164 

Search  after  Contentment Izaak  Walton 89 

Sea-sickness,  Horrors  of Matthews 142 

Secret  History  of  Books Thackeray _97 

Self-importance Swift 39 

Selfishness The  Doctor 82 

Selwyn's  Bon  Mots Edinburgh  Review 25 

Servants Ude 153 

Sharp  Set 106 

She-fool 125 

Sheridan's  Wit Brougham 175 

Sign  for  a  School 105 

Sixty  Years  Since , Quarterly  Review 157 

Sleeping  in  Church Swift 78 

Sermon  on Swift 125 

Small  Knowledge The  Doctor 106 

Talk 198 

Smith,  James,  Anecdotes  of Law  Magazine 117 

Soame  Jenyns Cumberland 202 

Snail  Dinner Quarterly  Review 205 

Source  of  Conceit Sydney  Smith 141 

Spinning  Virtue Sir  Walter  Scott 74 

St.  Evremont Milligen's  History  of  Duelling  108 

Story-telling Steele 147 

Strawberry,  The 16 

Hill 65 

Stupid  Stories Walpole 18 

Success  in  Life Guesses  at  Truth 129 

Suspicion Bolingbroke 43 

Sydney  Smith  on  Canning 95 

Talleyrand Brougham 146 

Taverns «. Dr.  Johnson 40 

Tedious  Persons Ben  Jonson 50 

Temple,  Sir  William,  and  Lord  Brouncker 132 

Tenderness  of  Wit Swift 90 

Tests Quarterly  Review 167 

Theatre,  The Sydney  Smith 133 


INDEX.  229 

Pag. 

Thurlow,  Lord Butler's  Reminiscences 91 

Titles  of  Books Butter. 24 

Tooke,  Home,  and  Wilkes. 180 

Too  Late 110 

Transmission  of  Money Quarterly  Review 201 

Transformations Matthews 183 

Tread  of  the  Camel Macfarlane 215 

Treason 119 

True  Courtesy ....Ben  Jon  son. 73 

Riches Erasmus 139 

Walker 211 

Truth Steele. 15 

Turkish  Language The  Doctor 90 

Turner— Retaliation Campbell. 179 

Two  Evils. Hannah  More. 87 

Unanimity. _ 98 

Unfortunate  Men Thackeray 196 

Unthinking  Good  Man's  Son. Coleridge 75 

Use  and  Abuse Sydney  Smith 131 

Vanity,  Curious  Remarks  on Franklin. 32 

of  Human  Fame The  Doctor 62 

Varieties  of  the  Human  Race 121 

Virtue  in  a  Short  Person Fuller 59 

Voltaire 129 

Voltaire's  Physiognomy Matthews. 162 

Seal  Book 153 

Voluminous  Authors Sydney  Smith 135 

Trifling The  Doctor .' 106 

Want  of  a  Pursuit Sharp 37 

Wedderburn's  Quotations 191 

Whales  in  Brobdinag Swift 216 

What's  in  a  Name Sydney  Smith 149 

VVhitefleld 217 

Wilkes,  John 166 

Wilkie  and  tha  Monk  of  the  Escurial The  Doctor 55 

Wisdom  of  Mirth Bolingbroke. 66 

Wit  and  the  Greater  Passions Sydney  Smith 53 

Judgment Sir  T.  Overbury. 54 

Learning 118 

Professed  Wits Sydney  Smith 9 

Witty  Simile Bulicer 14 

Wotton,  Sir  Henry , 136 

War Critridge 189 

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